


Explorer of All Universes

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altea (Voltron), Alternate Reality, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Post Season 7, Rescue Missions, Temporary Character Death, Vindication for Lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: Allura found sleeping on Earth nearly impossible.The dreams were merciless, more like visions than dreams. And that was part of what made them so…unsettling. Images of Lotor, slumped and emaciated, nothing more than a skeleton covered with stretched purple skin, eyes sunken and empty.In her dreams, he looked just like Haggar.She could still remember the feeling of her feet refusing to move, her hand feeling like it was made out of stone when she tried to reach for him. She may as well have been lightyears away, staring at him through an impossibly thick pane of viewing glass, but she could hear his voice as clearly as if he were standing right next to her:Why did you leave me to die…Why Allura…when we were meant to be…--Allura searches the reaches of alternate realities to find Lotor. And answers to the questions plaguing her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the 2018 Lotura Big Bang! I've been very excited to post, and I'm even more excited to share the accompanying art by the wonderful [ticksterdraws](https://tricksterdraws.tumblr.com/). I'll be sharing the art very soon. :)

Allura found sleeping on Earth nearly impossible.

It wasn’t the sounds that bothered her – strange whirring chirps from things that Pidge called _cicadas_ and the occasional patter of rain from dark clouds that rolled in in the evening. No, she found those oddly soothing, alien as they were. Nor was it the constant thump of the night guard shift’s boots outside her quarters or the hum of Garrison machinery. Those were close enough to what she’d grown used to growing to be almost familiar. It wasn’t the feeling of different too-scratchy sheets or a too-firm mattress either. Most nights when she fell into bed, she was too exhausted to care about either.

No, what made drifting off so difficult most nights were the _dreams._ They were merciless, impossible to ignore or forget when she woke in a cold sweat, panting and trying to will her heart to slow. They weren’t nightmares, really, and they didn’t fade like nightmares did with a few dobashes of patient waiting.

They were too vivid, more like visions than dreams. And that was part of what made them so… _unsettling._

The last one still stayed with her as she dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her jacket and shoes. It lingered like a bad taste or a foul smell – like a fog. Images of Lotor, slumped and emaciated, nothing more than a skeleton covered with stretched purple skin, eyes sunken and empty.

In her dreams, he looked just like Haggar.

She could still remember the feeling of her feet refusing to move, her hand feeling like it was made out of stone when she tried to reach for him. She may as well have been lightyears away, staring at him through an impossibly thick pane of viewing glass, but she could hear his voice as clearly as if he were standing right next to her:

_Why did you leave me to die…_

She pushed open the door of her quarters and slipped down the hall, nodding at the night guard on her way. They were under curfew still, but she had long since been granted reprieve to go where she pleased when she pleased.

“One of the perks of being a princess!” Lance had told her once with a wide smile. “Not even Iverson himself can tell you to stay in your room!”

And she supposed he was right. But even so, she didn’t feel much like a princess now. Oh, it wasn’t because she had given up her crown, or because she had traded in her lavish dresses for a cadet’s uniform. She was more than her garb or titles, but a princess wasn’t meant to feel so _helpless._

And she certainly wasn’t meant to lose herself in thoughts and visions of terrors long since past.

But she still couldn’t sleep. So she walked instead – all the way down the corridor, toward the mess hall. Maybe a snack would clear her mind…Not very princess-like of her, but ever since she’d discovered whipped cream, she hadn’t been able to resist the occasional indulgence…

Earth was very different than she was used to, but like all planets, it was rich with genius inventions.

But when the doors opened, she found that someone else had thought of the same plan. A figure was hunched by the fridge, picking at something on the counter. She let the door close behind her, and his hand froze halfway to his mouth.

“Keith,” Allura breathed. “You’re…up late.”

She barely got a glimpse of him sliding some package behind the counter. The lights were dim, but it looked like…some kind of meat?

He coughed. “Allura – princess, ah…are…are you okay?”

“What are you eating?” she blurted before she could help herself, and even in the darkness she noticed him blush. He dropped the container on the counter, as if in defeat.

“My uh…my mom has been on me lately telling me I’m not getting enough protein. Keeps telling me how important it is.” He let out a sigh. “Apparently Galra…they – we – eat more meat than humans do? Figured it would look crazy though, loading my plate up with chicken at dinner, and Shiro is always insisting I should eat more vegetables…”

Allura glanced at the package in front of him – its label was peeled back and wrinkled, but she could make out the words “Chicken Nuggets” stamped on the plastic.

“They’re not very good cold,” he admitted. “But you can have one if you want.”

She grimaced. “No, thank you. Ever since Hunk showed me a picture of what those… _chickens_ really look like, I can’t quite stomach the thought of eating one.” A shiver ran down her spine. “All those _feathers._ ”

Keith laughed, quietly, as he finally reached for another and nibbled on it. Finally, a little hesitantly, he asked, “So you…can’t sleep?”

She supposed it wasn’t worth hiding. It was no more shameful than sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night for whipped cream. “Just…a lot of dreams,” she admitted. “Not very…pleasant ones.”

He stared down at the package in front of him for a moment, finally re-sealing it and placing it back in the fridge. “I know the feeling…”

She bit her lip. She couldn’t…tell him, could she? But she had to tell _someone._ It was eating her from the inside out, holding onto it like this. Like a dirty secret. “They’re about-“ She couldn’t get the words out, cutting herself off the moment Keith’s eyes met hers. “About…about him.”

Keith blinked, looking confused. _Stars,_ she thought, _don’t make me say it._

But then realization flashed in his eyes, and he nodded. “Oh… _oh._ ”

She wrung the hem of her jacket in her hands and stared at the new wrinkles she left there. “It’s ridiculous, _lingering_ on it like this. It’s not healthy. I’m _trying_ to move forward, to…to focus on what lies ahead for us. But ever since we found that Altean in that robot…”

“She…hasn’t woken up yet?” Keith offered, his tone solemn and carefully measured. Allura could do nothing but shake her head. “So we still have more questions than answers.”

“And it’s the _questions_ that are driving me insane. Or it feels that way at least. I can’t stand it…doubting myself this way…”

Her voice trailed off into nothingness. That word echoed in her head in the silence – _doubt._ Like there was any question they had done the right thing.

Was there?

_Had they?_

It had to be right – there was nothing else they could have done. He had given them no other option.

_Why did you leave me to die? Why Allura…when we were meant to be…_

She swayed on her feet, pressing her hand against her temple.  She stayed that way, trying to calm her heartbeat, until Keith said, “You too huh?”

Her eyes snapped open. “What?”

Keith had his palms flat against the counter, his eyes fixed on the surface in front of him. His knuckles were white, like he was trying to push the solid metal down into the ground. “It’s…it’s nothing. It’s ridiculous. Forget I said any-“

“No.”

He glanced up at her.

“No,” she said again. _Pleaded._ “No, tell me.”

He drew in a breath and let out a long sigh. “It’s just…” He tapped his fingers against the metal, like he was trying to gather his words. “Since we…since we found that colony…ever since we exposed Lotor for who he was, I can’t get rid of this…this feeling of…I don’t know how to put it – just this feeling that we’re _missing_ something. It all felt so clear. It made so much sense when my mom and I found it, like Romelle’s story fit all the pieces together. But the more I think about it, the more I…I’m not sure.”

Allura’s mouth had gone dry. “You don’t think…Romelle is lying, do you?”

“N-no! No, I don’t. And that makes it so much more frustrating. Because if she’s telling the truth, then it’s so much more _complicated._ Unless there’s some way for her to be right _and_ wrong at the same time-“ His fingers tangled in his hair. “Agh, I’m sorry…I’m not helping.”

“It’s okay.” Was that truly her voice? So rough and…weak. She wiped the back of her hand under her eyes, and if Keith saw the tear there before then he didn’t mention it. She was thankful for that. “Do you think…do you think we made a mistake? Leaving Lotor in that rift?”

Keith swallowed. “I don’t know.” The answer hurt more than any _yes_ or _no_ could have. So much that it was almost a physical pain. “But…but from what Kolivan told me, about the…the power vacuum that Lotor left in the empire…it’s been chaos. And maybe it was necessary, but…but if it wasn’t…” He sounded like he had lost all certainty in what he was saying. “I don’t know…maybe it did more harm than good.”

Of course…her _dreams_ – visions, whatever they were – were so…so trivial compared to all of the suffering that had run rampant through the universe. Suffering that was still spreading like an unchecked infection.

They had to do something. Voltron had to. _She_ had to.

“Allura,” Keith asked softly. “Are you…are you gonna be okay?”

The way he phrased it – she couldn’t help but smile, albeit a little wanly. Of course he hadn’t asked if she _was_ okay. The answer to that was too obvious.

She nodded anyway. “I…suppose I have much to think about. But I’m glad, Keith…not that you’re suffering too, but that you seem to…understand. In a way, at least.” She reached out, her palm finding his arm. Her fingers curled against his sleeve, thumb brushing his wrist.

He didn’t pull away, and she supposed she hadn’t expected him to. He had grown more than she realized, in more ways than one. “You should try to get some sleep, Keith.”

“You should too,” he said, and as her fingers slipped away from his arm. “And…for what it’s worth, I want to help however I can. We all do…”

She did manage a smile at that, at least.

She headed back to her room in silence, arms wrapped around her chest, tugging her jacket tightly around her own body. She nodded at the night guard as she passed again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she slid into bed again.

_We were meant to be…_

Sleep eluded her for the rest of the night, but that was probably for the best.

* * *

The east wing laboratory was loud and brightly lit, just the thing to wake her up after a sleepless night. Even if it didn’t help her headache much. The crashing and banging coming from behind the arching metal doors were familiar by now, at the very least since the Garrison had opened its doors to their allies across the Coalition. And one in particular had moved in and gotten comfortable good and quick.

“Slav,” she said with a smile, “It’s good to see you again.”

“I already knew you were coming!” he insisted, a pair of needle nose pliers flying sailing over his shoulder as he huffed. “Out of all the universes where we wind up on Earth, 89% of the time at least one of us survives long enough to meet again.” His eyes were intently fixed on the gadget in front of him, two of his arms busy adjusting a bolt on the side of it while the other six held the machine in place. “Of course in the 10% of universes where I was killed, you only attended my funeral 41% of the time!”

“Er…”

“And of course, since I’m still alive in this universe, I have no way of knowing if this is one of those 41% of universes where you would bother honoring me in death!”

“I-it is, I assure you!” she said quickly. “I would never…skip your funeral…”

“Then I’m assuming this is one 78% of universes where you come to ask me a favor!” He was inches from her face in moments, eying her closely with one eyebrow carefully raised. “Well, are you here to ask me a favor?”

She leaned back just enough to avoid smelling the slight scent of fish on his breath, clearing her throat. “More to…ask your opinion on something?”

His brows raised. “Oh, so it’s one of _those_ universes! Interesting… _fascinating._ Tell me, what kind of opinion are you looking for? And don’t make me guess, because I’m _terrible_ at guessing, particularly in this universe!”

“I-I-“ She stumbled backward a bit, trying to get her bearings. It was hard enough, deciding how to word this without trying to cater to infinite other iterations of the same conversation on top of everything else. “I wanted to ask you…what do you know about…other universes?” He stared at her, quiet – for a moment, anyway. “And…and travel between those other universes-“

“Oh!” Slav practically flailed as he rushed away from her and stumbled over to his computer, typing away with at least four arms. Frankly she was surprised the machine didn’t start sparking under his fingers. “Oh, oh, _oh!_ This is a very rare universe, isn’t it? Only 0.1% include a development like _this!_ Travel to other universes, breaking the barrier between realities, it’s _dangerous,_ you see! More than dangerous – potentially, catastrophic!”

To him, everything seemed to be potentially catastrophic, but somehow Allura didn’t think it was an exaggeration this time. “But what about just traveling _between_ them, to the…the rift that exists between them.”

“The rift between universes,” he mused. “Ah, but you see, to travel to that rift _is_ to travel to the other universes! They’re one and the same, and just as dangerous! Taking just one ship into the rift takes untold power – the Altean Castle was perhaps the only piece of technology that could supply enough energy to keep a portal like that stable-“

“And what about just one person?” Allura blurted.

Slav, for once, went silent.

She turned, staring at the device on the table, gaze and finger tracing over the clean lines of metal. “Just one person,” she repeated. “Not a whole ship. Just one. Is it…is it possible?”

His face was unreadable. Well, it was always unreadable, but now…it was softer, somehow. More thoughtful. Intrigued, even. “One…person…yes, yes _interesting._ Forget 0.1%, this kind of development is limited only to 0.001 – no, 0.0001% of universes! It’s truly unprecedented!”

“But is it _possible?_ ”

“Well, yes!” Allura’s stomach flipped. No, she couldn’t get her hopes up so easily. “Yes, it’s possible. It’s _very_ possible! But dangerous – complicated…the chances of success are less than 10%, and that’s erring on the side of optimism!”

She wasn’t aware that Slav even _had_ a side of optimism.

But she didn’t care about statistics, no matter how optimistic of pessimistic they happened to be. She breathed in deep, clasping her hands in front of her. “Slav,” she said, “You’re one of the greatest minds in the universe…I need…I need to get to the rift. I need to find something that was left there…”

_Why did you leave me to die-_

“Can you do it?” He opened his mouth to speak. “In _this_ universe.”

He closed his mouth again.

He clasped his hands – the lower four of them at least – behind his back, while another reached up to rub his chin. “It would depend…if we’re in one of _those_ universes, perhaps a 20% chance. But if it’s one of the _other_ universes, no…no, failure would be catastrophic-“ His eyes went wide. “Yes! Yes, I have just the thing, but it’s highly experimental, even _more_ highly dangerous, and it will need much more work-“

She could hardly breathe. “You…you can do it?”

“Yes! Oh, yes, I can…it’s risky… _very_ risky! But if I had the right parts to finish the project…yes, yes…”

“Tell me what you need,” Allura insisted. “Whatever it is, and I’ll see you get it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Slav’s eyes sparkled. “Is…is that true, Princess?”

“Anything,” she repeated. “Just as long as you can make this possible…in this universe.”

“Of course, Princess,” Slav said with a nod. “There may only be a 10% chance of success, but I’ll do my best to make the very most of that 10% as I can!”

She supposed that was all she could ask for.

* * *

A movement passed. A _long_ movement, restless and exhausting. Allura fell into a tiresome schedule, visiting the nameless Altean from Haggar’s mech every morning and sitting by her side while she slumbered in the infirmary; spending endless vargas in the monitoring center watching for any sign of Haggar or her forces; sweating off some of her stress when she found a spare moment in the training hall.

And when she needed some peace and quiet, she walked the grounds. Nobody gave her any trouble, no matter the time. The guards nodded her way and let her pass by, whether it was the middle of the afternoon or the dead of night.

But telling the Paladins about her plans…that was another matter entirely. Perhaps, she thought, it would be easier to show them firsthand. So as soon as Slav called her to the lab with news, she gathered all of them in the east wing, her heart racing.

 “Princess!” Slav turned on his heel, eyes gleaming. Were those bags under them, she wondered? Just how long had he been working without sleep? “I’ve had a breakthrough! One that means success is 63% more likely in the long run!”

“Uhh…what were the chances of success before?” Hunk hazarded, but Allura didn’t let Slav answer – she could only stand so much talk of statistics.

“What…kind of breakthrough?” she asked him instead.

“ _This_ kind of breakthrough!” Slav announced, and a glint of metal in his hands caught Allura’s eye. It was small…smaller than she’d pictured when she’d imagined what kind of device he would come up with. It was nothing more than a sleek ring large enough to fit around her wrist. “My newest invention – the SQR-46583, version alpha-2, also known as the reality-jumper.”

“Reality…jumper?” Pidge asked, and Allura could see the glint in her eye.

“Well, it’s a bit of a misnomer – it’s not quite _jumping_ so much as _tunneling_ between the fabric of realities-“

“Does it work?” Allura interrupted. “Slav, is it…is it ready?”

A frown stretched across his face. “Theoretically,” he sighed. “All of the small-scale tests have gone well, but…there’s the question of the power source. It takes significantly less power to transport one person through the rift as opposed to an entire ship, of course, but the demands of stable travel of this nature…I don’t think a power source like that exists anywhere on this planet.”

Allura’s disappointment sank deep in her chest as Lance piped up behind her: “Wait, wait, wait – hold on a second. Reality jumping? Transporting people through the rift? What is he going on about? What is this…this thing for?”

“That’s…a good question,” Shiro added, a little more gently. “Princess…is something going on? Something you…haven’t told us?”

Yes, she thought, there was. There was too much she hadn’t told them. It felt like a weight on her shoulders, and she couldn’t help but sigh. “I…I asked him to develop it. There’s something I need to do…” She stared down at her clasped hands. “Alone.”

“That’s…cryptic,” Pidge mused.

“Cryptic is never good,” Lance insisted. “Princess, what is this? What’s this…this thing you have to do? We can help – we’re your friends-“

“You can’t – not with this. Not now. I…” She clenched her fists, hard enough that her shoulders shook. “I have to do this alone. I…I have to find him.”

The silence was deafening.

_Why did you leave me…_

“I just _left him there._ ”

… _to die…_

“I left him there to die…”

“Are…are you talking about Lotor?” Pidge asked, her voice tinged with subdued venom.

“That guy got what he deserved!” Lance said.

“Did he?” It was the first thing Keith had said since they had set foot in the laboratory, and all eyes turned toward him. “I mean…are we really sure he did?”

“Uh, yeah, he went batshit insane and tried to kill us! You were there! You and Krolia found the colony to begin with-“

“And I’m not so sure we knew just what we were seeing!” Keith sighed. “I know you all saw it too…the way everything fell apart after we left that rift. Leaving Lotor there _felt_ like the right thing to do at the time, but-“

“It _was_ the right thing to do!” Lance snapped. “He was evil! He was always evil!”

“We don’t _know_ that!”

“Uh, it seemed pretty clear when he started shooting at us!”

“We need answers! And Lotor is the only one who can give them to us, and he’s rotting in the rift between dimensions-“

“ _Guys-_ “ Shiro’s voice boomed over theirs, and suddenly the room was terrifyingly quiet. Allura’s ears rang with it, but she refused to turn. She couldn’t. Not until she managed to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

Judging by the breath that Lance let out, she figured it was pointless to try and hide them. _Quiznak._

“Oh…” Lance sighed. “Oh, Allura, I…I’m sorry…”

She pulled in a deep breath, fighting to keep it steady. “It’s alright,” she said, and she forced a smile. No easy feat. “It’s alright, Lance. But you have to understand – you all have to understand…I have to do this. Not for myself but for everyone. The people of Earth, the Blade of Marmora, that Altean we rescued from the robot…everyone who Haggar has harmed in this universe. We need answers. _Real_ answers. And there’s only one person who can give us those answers…”

“You…you want to find Lotor in the rift?” Pidge asked, her voice so small that it barely sounded like her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No…no I’m not. But I must try…” She wiped her eyes. There was no room for tears now – she had a plan. And to implement it she just had to solve one small problem. “I just have to find a power source that will be compatible with this device. I’ll talk to the Balmerans. It may take time, but maybe they can point us in the right direction…”

It was a relief to be alone, even if the air outside was oppressively hot. She breathed it in deep, smelling a hint of rain on the breeze.

She slipped from the room without waiting for anyone else to say another word. There would be time to listen to what they had to say and to address all of their concerns – concerns that overlapped with her own in more ways than one. But now…now she just needed to breathe. To _think._

So she walked. All the way around the balcony that wrapped around the side of the building, her eyes locked on the horizon as she listened to the sound of her feet against the metal. She walked, and she thought – about those dreams, about what Slav had said, about just how _real_ this was all becoming.

She could do it. She could go searching for him, searching for answers. It wasn’t just a nebulous hypothetical as it had been for so long, or something impossible that she held onto for the sake soothing her own self-doubt. And there was a chance – however impossibly small – that she could find him.

She wasn’t sure that made her feel better, or perhaps a thousand times worse.

“Princess?”

The voice behind her was soft, gentle, familiar. She turned to face it. “Shiro,” she sighed as he closed the door behind him. “I’m…I’m sorry for leaving like that. I just…”

“It’s okay,” he insisted, holding up a hand with a soft smile. “I figured you needed to think. Or just…get some air.” He shrugged. “Ah…for what it’s worth, Lance feels pretty awful about making you cry.”

“It’s not his fault.” She managed a laugh. “What he was saying…it all made perfect sense. This mission…it would be dangerous. And on the surface it may not seem worth it at all.” Instead of meeting Shiro’s eye as she spoke, she stared down at her hands. It was easier that way. She could almost picture the concerned pinch in his brow. “I…don’t want you to think I’m doing this out of some selfish need for _closure._ It’s because my judgment was clouded over by my emotions that we’re in this situation to begin with.”

“Princess…” His metal hand was deceptively warm, pressing gently against her elbow. “What happened with Lotor…it’s not all on you.”

It wasn’t hard to parse his meaning – not when she could remember better than she wanted the sight of him deep under Haggar’s control. “It’s certainly not on you either,” she assured him. She folded one hand over his and finally caught his eye.

She wondered if sleep had been hard for him too.

“Princess,” he said. “Allura…you don’t…you don’t need to do this alone.”

She sighed. “Yes I do…and please don’t think I have some self-destructive urge to be a martyr sacrificing myself to a cause. I’m not so blind as to think myself so disposable. But I cannot risk Voltron, not when the chance of failure is so high and Haggar could strike at any moment. If this doesn’t work…if it turns out I’m just chasing some ridiculous dream, you and the other Paladins need to be here. To protect Earth. To protect _everything_ -“

“I know.” His fingers wrapped around hers, squeezing firmly. “Allura, I know…but I mean you don’t need to do _all of it_ alone. We can help. You know we can.” He let out a sigh, letting go of her hand and flattening his palms against the railing in front of them. “At the very least I can.”

“Shiro…”

“You and I both know that you don’t need to go to the Balmerans for help finding a power source.” His smile was enigmatic, almost impossible to read.

“You heard Slav – there’s nothing on Earth that will serve as a power source. A balmeran crystal is surely the only thing that will provide power stable enough for the device to work, and we don’t exactly have any lying around.”

“We…kind of do though?” He laughed, softly, holding up his arm – the one she had spent vargas carefully crafting with her own hands. “Not worth wasting time tracking down another one when we’ve got a perfectly good crystal right here.”

Her eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t be offering… “Shiro…I couldn’t possibly-“

“Why not? It’s yours, isn’t it?“ The fingers of his other hand brushed against his forehead.

“But you need it-“

“It’s just an arm, Allura,” he insisted, more firmly now. “I can manage without it fine. The Garrison has plenty of excellent prosthetics anyway, and this is more important than me being able to tie my own shoes in the morning.” He shrugged. “Think of it like…taking the batteries out of your TV remote to put them in the smoke detector.”

“Doing…what now?”

“Ah…don’t worry about it.” He extended his metal hand, palm up. Like an offering. And she supposed in a way, it was. “Take the crystal, Allura. Take this shot. Please.”

When he was offering it so freely, so insistently, how could she possibly turn him down?

But of course she couldn’t reach out and rip the crystal from its casing right her on the balcony, so instead she threw her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. He stumbled a bit before pressing his palm against the middle of her back. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Shiro…thank you so much…”

She could _hear_ the smile in his voice as he said, “Just…on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Come back safe,” he told her, “Okay? We can’t lose you. You’re too important. Even if you don’t find him, even if you fail…just promise you’ll come back.”

Her eyes burned again, but this time she was smiling as they did. “I would never abandon you all…especially not when we’re so close to ending this war. So yes…I promise.”

He nodded. “Right…okay, Princess.”

* * *

She removed the crystal from Shiro’s arm herself. It glowed like the morning sun against the ocean, so warm in her palm that it felt alive. Slav’s eyes gleamed as she handed it to him, almost reverently. “Will this do?”

“Well, considering that we have not found ourselves in one of the 23% of alternate universes where the crystal fractures upon removal from its casing, I’d say we have about a 77% chance of success in getting the reality-jumping device to function!”

She caught Shiro grimacing out of the corner of her eye, even despite the light sedation. “Well…that’s not a bad chance at all.”

“How long will it take to install the crystal and see if it works?” Allura asked.

“Not long,” Slav promised her. He was already taking it and scurrying over to the device at his workstation. He hesitated just for a moment, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Though…there is 0.4% chance that it could fail catastrophically.”

“How…catastrophically?” Allura hazarded.

“Oh, a massive explosion! Enough to level this wing of the building at least!”

Shiro sat up much too fast for someone who was still only half-conscious. “ _What?_ ” Allura had press him back down against the table.

“Ah…perhaps we should-“

But Slav was already intent on inserting the crystal into the device, and Allura couldn’t help but flinch. But there was no explosion…not even an errant spark as he pressed it into the casing. Just a tick later, the device hummed to life, glowing faintly in Slav’s hands. “Oh!” he said. “Pulse pattern is stable, no energy spikes…yes, I think it worked.”

Allura swallowed. “You mean…”

“It will take more testing – yes a good deal more, but assuming we are not in one of the 2% of universes where this planet is destroyed before testing is completed, it should not take long before it’s ready for it’s ready.”

Exhilaration swelled in her chest, and she looked down at Shiro with an exuberant smile. “Thank you, Shiro…thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Princess,” he said, grinning a little woozily. “If anyone can do this, it’s you…”

“He does have a point,” Slav added, “Statistically you are the most likely to succeed – out of the 12% of universes where anyone else attempts this mission, 99.7% of them end in catastrophic failure!”

If that was meant to make her feel better, it didn’t.

* * *

“Allura…are you sure about this?”

Coran didn’t bother covering up his worry. She didn’t expect him to.

“I may not be as young as I once was,” he continued, “But I’m certainly not senile. And I know a thing or two about interdimensional travel! And its dangers! To go traveling to the rift _alone,_ it’s…it’s just…”

“I know,” she said softly. If Slav weren’t so intent on fitting the device to her wrist – and so _insistent_ that she keep her hand _perfectly still –_ she would have reached for Coran’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. But as it was, she had to settle for leveling him with a determined look. “Coran, I’m not doing this on a whim.”

“I _know_ you aren’t, but…but…” He let out a sigh. “I’m sure it would be a waste of breath to try and talk you out of it. Once you set your mind to something, it usually is. You’re a lot like your father that way…”

She smiled. “I’ll be safe, Coran. I promise. And you know my father always kept his promises, too.”

“That he did,” he agreed with a thoughtful twist of his mustache. “That he did, indeed. And he was always uncannily good at finding his way out of even the stickiest situations…so I know I can trust you to…to come back safe…”

The device tightened around her wrist, pinching her skin, and she winced before Slav quickly loosened it again. “A loose clasp – I can weld it shut.”

“Got it,” Pidge piped up.

“Coran-“ Allura fought to keep her hand still as the heat of the welder sparked against her skin. A slipup now wouldn’t help her already slim chances of success. “The last thing I want is for you to worry over me-“

“Well it’s too _late_ for that, missy,” he huffed, and his gaze softened. “I did promise your father I would keep you safe. And I don’t break promises either.”

“I won’t make you break one.”

“There!” Pidge announced. “That’s about as secure as we can make it without welding it right to your skin.”

Slav looked _unpleasantly_ thoughtful. “That would decrease the chances of the device being forcibly removed by about 2%...”

“I’ll take that 2% risk, thank you,” she sighed, pulling her hand back and getting a good look at the device on her wrist. It was deceptively heavy, glowing with a soft, pulsing rhythm. Almost like a heartbeat. She swore she could practically _feel_ it against her flesh. “It almost seems…alive…”

“Must be the crystal,” Shiro offered. “The arm you made me always did feel more…a part of me than the Galra prosthetic ever did. Almost like the power source had its own…life force somehow.”

“It is a pretty powerful crystal,” Pidge said. “By weight, it’s probably one of the most energy-packed materials in the universe.”

“But not unlimited,” Slav insisted. “Princess, it’s _very_ important that you understand how this device works. By my calculations, you have enough energy for six jumps, and you _must_ save the last one to get yourself back here. Otherwise, there’s no telling where you could end up! And unless you’re lucky enough to find yourself in the 0.02% of universes where you would have access to reality-jumping technology, you could be stranded there for the rest of your natural life!”

“Only six jumps…” Lance mused. “That doesn’t sound like a lot…”

“It’s not,” Keith sighed.

Hunk looked thoughtful, finally speaking up: “Ah, maybe I’m missing something, but…Lotor isn’t _in_ another universe, is he? He’s in the rift between them, which is like…I dunno, the Upside Down from that old show?”

Allura didn’t know what he meant by that, but his point was still a good one. “The only way to the rift is through the other realities. And even then it won’t be simple…”

“Hunk’s right, though,” Pidge said. “The rift isn’t really another universe at all. It’s kinda like…the mortar between bricks. Each universe is distinct and self-contained, like each brick in a wall.”

“All in all you’re just another brick in the wall,” Lance sighed.

“Rrrright,” said Pidge. “Anyway, the rift runs between all of them, connecting them. When you travel to another dimension, you have to travel through the rift to get there. There’s no way to bypass it.”

“And each pass through the rift will gather more information about Lotor’s exact location,” Slav said. “The device is attuned to your own quintessence signature, but otherwise…each jump will be more or less random. Or at least the first one will be…with each pass, the device will hone in on the correct location. Or at least…that’s the idea.”

“So you’re not sure it’ll work?” Lance said with a grimace.

“I’m as sure as anyone can be – the nature of the universe is inherently _un_ certain!”

“Alright, alright!”

“And remember,” Slav continued, fiddling with the device on Allura’s wrist. “The device will need to power up again after each jump, so no jumping from reality to reality all willy-nilly!”

“Six jumps,” she repeated to herself. The more she mulled it over, the smaller the number seemed. She stared at her finger as she flexed them. “I don’t suppose there’s any way of knowing just where each one will take me…”

“There are plenty of theories,” Slav mused. “But personally I’ve found all of them severely unconvincing.”

“So it’s just…luck of the draw?” Keith asked, and Slav sighed.

“In this case…all of the possibilities extend past even my knowledge of theoretical inter-dimensional statistics…”

And that was saying something. Allura steeled herself. “There’s no use worrying about it. It won’t do any good.” She stood, flexing her arm and getting used to the weight of the device on her wrist. “If it’s ready…I shouldn’t waste anymore time.”

“Well…” Slave said, “In theory-“

“Are we going to get any better than theory without trying it for real?”

“In this universe? No…I highly doubt it.”

“Then there’s only one way forward,” she said, staring down at her palm. The device pulsed against her skin, almost soothingly. “And that’s…forward.”

Coran’s hands covered hers a moment later. “Don’t forget that promise, you understand?” he said, his voice straining. “Stay safe…please, just…just stay safe.”

She didn’t waste another moment before tugging him into a tight hug. “I will.”

“Oh man…I can’t just sit around watching this without getting in on it,” Hunk groaned, and a moment later another pair of crushingly strong arms were around her shoulders. Then followed another, and another, until she could hardly breathe.

“Come back in one piece, Princess,” Pidge said.

“Aww, c’mon – she can handle it,” Lance insisted with a watery smile. “She’s the strongest one of all of us, remember?”

“Just don’t do anything crazy,” Keith told her. “You know…crazier than this whole thing already is…”

“Never,” she said. “Thank you.” She looked up as one last hand pressed against her shoulder, and she met Shiro’s gaze. “All of you…”

Her eyes were burning as she stepped back, taking a steadying breath. There was no use delaying the inevitable any more. No use putting off what needed to be done. With just a few simple swipes of her finger, the device on her wrist hummed to life.

“I suppose I’ll…what’s the phrase? See you all on the other side?”

She offered a smile and activated the jump sequence.

_We were meant to be…_

Perhaps they were. Perhaps they weren’t. But she knew with certainty that she was meant to find the answers she’d craved for so long.

A powerful tug behind her chest pulled her backwards, knocking the wind out of her, and the image of her friends’ faces faded into bright white nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found here! https://tricksterdraws.tumblr.com/post/180322358526/i-participated-in-the-loturabigbang-and-got

Allura woke up to a breeze blowing across her face and a scent that she swore smelled like juniberry blossoms wafting through her nostrils. Surely she had to be hallucinating – her head swam so horribly when she tried to open her eyes that she couldn’t stand it, but even then she knew that every juniberry plant in the universe had died with Altea. And yet the scent was so familiar…the soft, sweet notes conjured such vibrant memories of her vargas spent playing in the castle gardens that she didn’t see how they could be anything else.

Perhaps it was a dream. A sweet, beautiful dream following her into consciousness. But then she opened her eyes, and she could barely _breathe._

Altea. This was Altea. The Great Central Ring stretched overhead, vast and glinting in the sunlight against the clear blue sky. The breeze carried with it the unmistakable scent of the purple blooms that dotted the soft ground beneath her feet, as far as she could see in every direction, and there, over the crest of the nearest hill, was the entrance to the capital city – Altiran.

She let out a shuddering breath, certain now that she must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or _dead._ It was a cruel trick of her mind…that or a beautiful vision of the afterlife. Surely it couldn’t be real.

This couldn’t be her home. And yet the colors were so _sharp,_ and the smells were so _pungent,_ that it couldn’t be anything else.

It was impossible, and yet here she was. Standing in the fields outside of the very city where she had been born. The city she’d seen burning before being thrust into stasis for ten-thousand deca-phoebs.

She stared down at the device on her wrist – the readout had dropped from six to five. So the jump had been a success…and now she had five remaining. Five jumps between her and home. And according to the device, she had close to two vargas before there would be enough power for her to make the next one.

Two vargas on her home planet. Of course she could spend it sitting here amongst the juniberry blossoms, but she was on a mission. And if the device gathered more data with each jump, then perhaps exploring as much as she could would increase her odds of success.

Maybe only infinitesimally…but it was something.

So she wiped her eyes and stepped through the tall grass toward the entrance of the central part  of the city – where the castle proper was nestled beyond the walls. She had always adored staring out her window at the vast fields that surrounded the castle grounds, a lush green ring between them and the rest of the city.

The doors were open, just as they always had been when she’d been a girl. Her father had always insisted that they remain that way, that Altiran and the royal grounds – like Altea itself – would welcome all with open arms.

Her father…could he be here as well-

No, she couldn’t bear to think of it. Because she didn’t know if she could bear to find out that he was gone in this universe too. And she wasn’t sure if she could bear leaving if he wasn’t.

Large crowds milled near the entrance of the grounds, stretching down the streets that led to the castle at its heart. As she drew closer she caught a glimpse of the ceremonial hoods draped over their heads and shoulders, dotting the streets with all shades of cool blues and greens. Colors of thanksgiving and celebration.

She remembered sights like this, remembered adoring running her fingers along the intricate woven designs emblazoned on those hoods, even as a child. The memory of it brought a smile to her face, warmth bubbling up in her chest.

“Here you are, my dear,” came a voice from beside her, and she turned. A woman beamed at her, a light aquamarine hood draped over her fingers. She pushed it closer, until Allura reached out and took it. “The juniberries are blooming so wonderfully,” the woman said with a contented sigh. “It’s so perfect for this joyous day.”

“They…they are,” Allura said as she stared down at the hood in her hands. She ran her thumb along the simple stitchwork along the hem. “For you to be giving these away so freely…it must be quite the occasion.”

“I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone go without a celebratory hood on the prince’s naming day!” The woman laughed, sounding positively elated. “I only hope I’ll have the time to make more – I’ll need them when the queen gives birth to her second.”

The queen…Allura could hardly breathe. Surely it couldn’t be her mother…She didn’t know if she had the courage to ask. She didn’t have to, though – the woman’s smile faltered a bit. “Are you alright?” she asked. “You look like something’s troubling you.”

“No…no, I’m alright…” She draped the hood over her head and fought back a wave of emotion that welled up in her chest. The fabric was impossibly soft and feather-light, kissing her skin where it fell against the nape of her neck. “It’s just been a…a long time since I saw a celebration like this.”

“You should have seen the streets when the queen announced she was pregnant with her first,” the woman sighed. “It was certainly a sight to behold – hoods and smiling faces as far as the eye could see. I’m sure we’ll see even more when the second little one comes along.” She chuckled. “And it won’t be long now – I don’t envy her, you know. I remember being that far along with my own.”

“I-I’m sure…”

“Keep that hood, dear,” the woman told her, her hands folding over Allura’s own and holding it gently. “Enjoy this blessed day. We’ve had plenty of things to celebrate since Queen Allura took the throne, and I daresay there will be more to come.”

Allura froze. “Q…queen…”

But the woman was already disappearing into the crowd, waving with a wide smile as she went. Like a benevolent specter. Allura was left staring past the hem of the hood that dipped in front of her eyes, her vision blurring as her head spun. Queen…queen Allura. It could have been a coincidence, but if this device was truly turned into her own quintessence…

Queen…of Altea. She supposed had it not been destroyed, that would have been the most likely course of events. But she never thought she’d see it for herself now, even from this strange third-person perspective. All these hoods, all these smiled, all of these _people,_ here for _her._

For her _children._

She had to lean against the nearest pillar to keep her wobbling legs from giving out beneath her.

The castle stretched above the skyline, built on the crest of a gently sloping hill that made it visible even from afar. She had always loved that – it had always made her feel that no matter how far she wandered, no matter how long she spent away, she could always find her way home again.

And now, in a strange way, she had. At least for just a glimpse.

A royal child’s naming day…no doubt these crowds spanned all the way to the courtyard outside the castle walls. Her mother and father had addressed the people there on her own naming day, and though she’d been much too young to remember it, she’d been told more often than she could ever hope to forget that she’d cried through the entire time.

What would it be like, she wondered, to experience such a joyous ceremony herself, now fully grown? Even if it was in an alternate reality, how would it feel to watch herself address the people as the crowned queen of Altea…

Her heart raced as she clutched the hood closer to her body and made her way through the crowd toward the castle looming overhead.

“I wonder what name they’ll choose – do you think they’ll name the prince after his father?”

Allura’s ears perked up, honing in on the conversation in front of her as she ducked down a side street – a shortcut that seemed just the same even in this alternate universe. The father…what a strange thought. If her alternate self had truly become queen in this reality, it only made sense that she had taken a partner as well. A husband…

“Hieronymus is a strong family name.” A laugh. “But I think it’s more likely that they’ll name him after the Crown Father Alfor.”

Allura had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Crown Father…a title given to a king who passed the throne onto his child while still living. But did that mean…?

She paused at the high walls surrounding the castle courtyard. Royal guards in full ceremonial regalia flanked each side of the entrance, but she knew they were only for show. The real bulk of the guard for these sorts of ceremonies remained out of sight. If they did their job properly, they were never seen at all. Allura had made a game of it as a child, trying to see if she could pick out just how many camouflaged guards dotted the crowds.

“Fifty,” she had guessed once with a wide grin, and her father had smiled sagely and told her, “That and two-hundred more, my little flower.”

She didn’t bother trying to count them now, but she was sure there were at least that many. For a queen with a young child and one more on the way, there could easily have been twice that. Although there hadn’t been an assassination attempt in Altiran for at least three generations before her father ever took the throne.

She pushed her way through the crowd and into the courtyard. The massive, sprawling expanse of Altean ice quartz under her feet gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the silver and ivory of the castle walls. A rounded balcony stretched out overhead, draped with cobalt banners emblazoned with the royal crest – they fluttered in the gentle breeze that played on in Allura’s hood and hair.

And then, as she watched, the familiar royal fanfare rang out on all sides, drowning out the dying murmur of the crowds. The doors of the balcony opened, and Allura held her breath.

“Her majesty-“ came the announcement, “-Queen Allura, successor to Crown Father Alfor and Crown Mother Melenor – and his majesty King Hieronymus the Third!”

The cheers of the crowd were so deafening that it felt like a roll of thunder, but for all Allura paid attention to the sound, the king and queen may have well have been greeted with silence. There, on the balcony, flanked by four royal guards on each side, was a rail-thin man with fiery red hair and a clean-cut beard to match. And beside him was…was…

Her.

It was _her._ She stared at her own face, though it was a bit fuller and more worn with age. Her hair fell in long white tresses over her shoulders, framing the crown resting at her temples, and her hands folded gently over a healthily rounded belly beneath her dress.

Allura swallowed.

The red-headed man beside her other self had one hand pressed against the small of his wife’s back, and in his other arm, clinging to his shoulder, was a child, no older than a decaphoeb, she would have guessed, with wispy silver hair falling over his gleaming eyes.

“It’s so wonderful to see all of you here,” the queen said with a warm smile. It was so strange hearing her own voice coming from someone who was so similar, but so different in a million different ways. “To celebrate such a joyous day with you all…we count ourselves exceedingly lucky.”

She could only imagine. She’d never yearned for children before her life had been upheaved, but she’d always assumed they would be part of her future. So many things she had taken for granted. So many things she had never thought she could lose…

As if on cue, the baby in the king’s arms began to wail, and laughter rumbled up amongst the crowd as the man on the balcony smiled. “Well, at least two of us count ourselves lucky,” he chuckled, and the laughter grew loud enough to drown out the baby’s cries, if only for a moment.

“I seem to recall I did the same on my own naming day,” the queen said as she cleared the hair from the baby’s face. “But today…following the traditions of our ancestors, it’s time to announce our son’s name to all our people.”

She turned, smiling warmly at something – or someone – that Allura couldn’t see from where she was standing. “Truth be told,” the queen continued, looking almost sheepish, “We had already decided on the name before he was even born. We chose to name him after my father – one of the kindest rulers who ever sat on the throne of Altea.” She extended her hand, and that was when Allura saw him, stepping out from behind the pillar that had obscured her view.

Older than she remembered, with a longer beard and shorter hair, but the same impossibly kind eyes. They gleamed in the sunlight as he folded the queen’s hand in his.

“Alfor,” she said. “Our firstborn son…Alfor.”

The crowd cheered, the sound of it deafening as it rose up and enveloped her, following her as she pushed her way out of the courtyard down the street with the hood hiding her tears from prying eyes.

* * *

There was a quiet corner of the castle grounds – an overlook that stretched out over the lake to the west of the walls. Even here, on the outskirts, she could hear the triumphant fanfare of celebration music and the peoples’ cheers. They broke through even as she leaned against the wall and muffled her sobs into her palms.

What a life she had here…a life she had barely thought about. There hadn’t been time to want for things that she would never have. There had always been more important things than wallowing in her regrets. Voltron, the Coalition, alliances and diplomacy and the protection of all peoples too weak to protect themselves…so many others that needed her. It did nobody any good for her to lock herself away and wail for the future she’d been robbed of.

But there was nothing she could do from where she stood, nobody she could protect or help in this strange universe. Here she was only a stranger in a hood, and so she cried.

Even after her tears ran dry, she stayed where she was, gazing out over the lake and relishing the kiss of the breeze on her cheeks. The light began to shift to a warmer amber hue as time wore on, and she wondered just how long she’d been standing there. Surely the device had to be nearly charged enough for her next jump by now. Maybe it was for the best that she leave this universe – if she stayed any longer it might be that much harder to give up everything she’d found here for a second time.

As she reached up to pull back her hood and check the device’s status, a voice reached her ears, and it made her hands freeze by her temples. It was familiar. Almost painfully familiar. So much so that she was sure she’d been mistaken altogether. But she felt her legs moving before she could give it a second thought, sending her flying around the corner toward its source, and she nearly rammed into a wall of people forming solid line by the side of the road.

“I can’t believe the queen invited him,” someone in front of her whispered, their voice full of venom. “A Galra attending the name day ceremony…”

“He _didn’t_ attend the ceremony…but the audience with the queen is open to all, I guess. Even him.”

“E-excuse me,” Allura breathed as she tried, desperately, to make her way to the front of the crowd. Eyes turned toward her, and she tugged her hood further over her eyes. “I’m sorry – I just want to-“

“You want to see the Galra ambassador too, hm?” one of them said. He was young, adolescent, with a playful lilt to his voice that reminded her of Lance. “It isn’t something you see every day…I thought he’d be taller in person.”

“Davel, enough – he’ll hear you.” The woman beside him was older – his mother maybe, or more likely an older sister. She delivered a solid nudge to his ribs that made Allura more certain she was the latter.

“So?” Davel rubbed his side with a grimace, his face twisting into a sneer. “Ambassador or not…a Galra on Altea? In Altiran? It’s _ridiculous_ -“

“Is it so ridiculous of me to wish the king and queen well on this joyous occasion?”

That _voice._ Allura’s mouth went dry. She could barely look up, but he was so _close_ that it would have seemed ludicrous not to hazard a glance. She did, wondering if it would be easier for her to be mistaken, for it to be some other Galra looming over them.

But it was him.

Lotor.

A version of him, at least. Like her other self, he looked so similar, and yet so different. This Lotor was more…muted somehow, with his hair pulled back in a tight clean bun and his face the picture of diplomatic stoicism. The dark Altean tunic obscured his form more than his armor ever had, making his shoulders seem narrower and his hips wider, and his bulky white gloves easily covered any hint of his claws.

Beside her Davel stiffened. “A-a-ah…A-ambassador…Lotor…”

A guard – Galra, she assumed from the armor design, although it obscured their face – took a step forward before Lotor raised a hand. “Now, now…I’m not ignorant of the Alteans’…feelings about the Galra. That’s precisely why I’m here – it’s precisely why my job exists at all. As ambassador it’s my duty to help bridge this gap in any way I can.”

For someone more naïve, that tone would seem _warm._ But to Allura it seemed like this Lotor was toying with the boy.

Nevertheless, his smile was disarming, and he waited patiently for Davel to gather his words. “I-I didn’t mean…anything by it…”

“Of course.”

“I just hadn’t – I hadn’t realized you would…you would be here. That’s all.”

“Honoring the queen’s invitation, I assure you,” Lotor said with a slight bow of his head. “And speaking of which, I’ll need to take my leave. She’s expecting me in the gardens. Feel free to find me there – after all, the audience with the king and queen is open to all on a child’s naming day. And I’d be happy to discuss how much… _taller_ you expected me to be.”

Davel lost a bit of his color as Lotor stepped back and led his guards down the road, murmurs and curious gazes following him all the way. Allura watched, her heart racing, until they disappeared around the bend.

“Holy quiznak…” Davel breathed before his sister delivered another firm nudge to his ribs.

“You’re lucky he didn’t maim you!”

He wouldn’t, Allura almost said. That wasn’t how he did things. Even in this universe, she could tell that much, but she didn’t need to see him at all to be sure. In no reality, she was certain, was Lotor anything close to _impulsive._

Instead of blurting out that much, though, Allura let her gaze wander back to the castle. An audience with the royal family…open to anyone. Low-born, high-born, Altean, and apparently Galra too. It was a tradition her father had valued above all others.

Lotor…an ambassador to the Galra.

She glanced at the readout on her wrist – she still had nearly thirty dobashes before she would have enough power to make the next jump. She could stay on the outskirts of the city feeling sorry for herself, or she could sate her own curiosity.

She chose the latter and headed down the road that led to the audience hall – it was affixed to the side of the castle, the wide arching entryway surrounded by a lush green garden. She let her fingers graze over the leaves that hung overhead, bumping shoulders with the crowd as she made her way through the courtyard.

She had always loved this place as a child – she had spent countless vargas hiding in the bushes and jumping along the multicolored stones lining the paths that wound like a wide spiral toward the central area.

Through the line of foliage Allura caught a glimpse of her doppelganger, laughing as she held a woman’s hands tightly – the woman’s face was obscured by a deep navy hood, but she bowed low under the queen’s warm gaze.

She was so loved…

“Easy now – easy, easy…” She turned at the sound of another voice, gentle and amicable. “The king and queen will have time to speak to all of you, don’t you worry!” There, just on the other side of the bushes, she caught a flash of red hair. Her heart skipped, her eyes fixed on that spot even when the figure disappeared from view as she stepped around the hedge. It looked like…

She almost careened into his chest. “Whoa there!” Coran’s hands rested on her elbows, a warm and familiar smile stretching across his face beneath his mustache. And oh, Allura could have cried at the sight of that. “I know you must be in a hurry to meet with the king and queen, eh? You and everyone else here – practically half the city! It’s been quite the busy day, but like I said, there’ll be time for-“

“ _Coran…_ ” His name exploded out of her on a deep exhale that made him blink.

“That’s my name, yes.” His smile faltered just a bit, his brow pinching. “Say…are you alright there, ah…”

A name. She needed a name. And it couldn’t be her own – not when it was already tied to crown in this reality. She opened her mouth to answer, but her brain couldn’t quite keep up. “I…” _Think of a name – think of a name for quiznak’s sake!_ “I’m…ah…Merla. My name is Merla.”

“Merla, eh?” He twisted the end of his mustache, looking thoughtful. “You know, it’s the strangest thing – for a moment or so I almost mistook you for the queen herself! You’re the spitting image, you know.”

“I-I get that quite a lot…”

He laughed, warmly and openly. The sound was so familiar it made her chest ache. “I bet you do! Well it’s hardly a bad thing.” His brow rose in a neat arch. “You’re sure you’re not a distant cousin come to try and make a claim to the throne?”

“No! No, of course not!”

“Oh pish – I’m only joking!” He grinned at her. “But now… _are_ you here to speak to the king and queen? If you are, you may be waiting quite a while.”

He turned toward the royal couple again, smiling as the queen ushered a bright-eyed young boy who barely came up to her hip over to press a hand against her swollen belly. She heard Coran chuckle beside her even as her own hand wandered to her stomach, seemingly of its own volition. “Didn’t matter how many people tried to convince her to skip the meeting with the people and rest,” he said, voice thick with pride. “Queen Allura has always loved her people like family. Like her father that way.”

Something sticky caught in her throat, and she couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t bring herself to look at Coran as she finally asked, “Alfor…he…do you know why he…passed the crown to her?” She clutched the edges of her hood. “The last ruler to pass the crown on while still living was Bengar the Second, and he only did so because he was…too ill to carry on himself…”

Coran was quiet for a good long time, and even without looking Allura could _feel_ him studying her. “Comparing Alfor to Bengar the Second?” he huffed, and he would have sounded almost offended if he wasn’t already laughing. “The feeble old Bengar the Second – ancients rest his soul? Ha! Alfor would never have let something like a touch of the slipperies take his ability to rule. No, no…Princess Allura – well, _Queen_ Allura, of course, but a princess then still – she was just ready to take the title, and he could see that as well as anybody. Sometimes the old just need to accept when it’s time to pass the reins to the younger generation, with their bright eyes and fresh ideas.”

Her heart swelled with something she couldn’t quite name. “So he’s…he and the…the Crown Mother…they’re in good health?”

“Last I heard, and I heard just this morning.” His words were a little softer, a little gentler as he leaned in and added, “My dear…is there something worrying you?”

“No…no, nothing at all.” She smiled, wiping at her eyes with one hand as she straightened her hood with the other. “I’m just…I’m just happy to see that all’s well. It should be. On a…a day like today.”

“Well I should think so! Not every day one sees one’s own nephew attend his child’s naming ceremony.”

She blinked. “Nephew?” It clicked into place in her mind when she glimpsed Coran’s smiling face again, glowing with pride so brightly she swore it made his mustache curl. “King Hieronymus…he’s your nephew?”

“Certainly is! So I may be a bit biased…but I happen to think he’s made himself quite the respectable monarch!”

“Yes…it does certainly seem that way.”

“The two of them do make a good match for each other,” Coran sighed. “Remind me of Alfor and Melenor a bit, in their younger days at least. Always chattering on about strategy and diplomacy and whatnot. Always pushing each other forward – keeping each other grounded.”

Allura swayed a bit on her feet. She knew the feeling, all too well, of having just that with another person. “The marriage,” she breathed. “It was…arranged wasn’t it?”

“Like most royal marriages are these days,” he said with a sage nod. “Not that you would know it just from looking.”

She had to agree – the smile on her other self’s face as the king rested his hand on the small of her back was too natural to be forced. Allura knew what true happiness looked like on her own face, and she could see it clearly even through this crowd.

“You know, the two of them did something I never thought I’d see after the destruction of Daibazaal – reaching out for peace with the Galra within days of taking the throne.” She glanced at Coran and found him pinching the tip of his mustache between his fingers, a crease in his brow. “Quite the gamble, but so far it seems to have paid off. And _speaking_ of which-“ He brushed past her, a hand pressing firmly against her arm as he stood ramrod straight, as if at attention.

“Seneschal,” purred that familiar voice, and she whirled to face the source. Over Coran’s shoulder she spotted him, watching as the crowd parted for him. “You’re looking quite well.”

It was only a moment later that she realized Coran had stepped between her and Lotor, his shoulders looking broader than ever before. “You as well, Ambassador,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically icy. Lotor hardly seemed to mind. “We weren’t sure whether to expect you.”

“I came only to show my respect. I thought it would be rude to turn down the queen’s invitation. I’m sure you understand.”

“Perfectly.”

“Wonderful.” Lotor’s hands folded neatly behind his back, and even with his posture more relaxed than Coran’s, he stood a head taller than the royal advisor. “I promise not to overstay my welcome, of course.”

His gaze flashed in her direction, and for the shortest of moments, their eyes locked. Allura fought the urge to hide behind her hood. She turned, forcing herself to keep her line of sight fixed on flowers hanging down from the arches above.

Those eyes…they were just the same. So much so that it made her stomach feel like an empty pit.

“Speaking of the queen,” Lotor said slowly, as if regaining his own train of thought as he spoke, “She and King Hieronymus seem to be quite busy. I would hate to steal either of them away from their own people merely to pay my respects.”

“She is expecting you,” Coran relented. “And she shouldn’t be kept on her feet longer than necessary in her condition – come with me and I’ll take you over before the crowds get too overwhelming…”

Allura was already rushing – _scurrying,_ really – from the gardens as Coran led him down the opposite path. She couldn’t stay here, wasting time, gawking at every strange, distorted reflection of her own reality she happened to discover. She fought against the crowds, pushing against them on her way back to the city gates, letting the sounds of merriment and revelry fade into the distance.

It was only when she had made it outside the gates, her legs aching from her hurried pace, that she allowed herself to look back, her eyes tracing the shape of the royal spire against the blue sky. A familiar ache settled deep in her chest, throbbing and twisting there as she pulled in a shaking breath.

A tiny tendril of happiness curled there beside it as she held her palm against the device on her wrist. Although she’d always known that it had to be true, she had never thought she would see it with her own eyes – there was a reality, a universe in the great expanse of all existence, where her people lived on. Where her family was whole. Where her home was still safe.

She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy too, that this reality was not, and never would be her own.

She closed her eyes, letting the last thing she saw be the city where she had been born, surrounded by juniberry blossoms in full bloom. She let the image burn itself into her memory as the device on her arm thrummed to life again and sent her plummeting into the dark unknown.     


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I want to try and get this fic done before the new season drops, but even if I don't I'll get it finished before the new year. :)
> 
>  
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> **Fair warning, this chapter includes threats of violence against a child. No graphic violence or harm is included in this chapter.**

When Allura opened her eyes next, nothing but darkness greeted her. Well, near darkness – a dim purple glow drew her gaze upward, and she grimace when even that hint of light was enough to make her head throb.

The first jump hadn’t taken this much of a toll on her. Besides leaving her a little disoriented and nauseous, she had been able to carry on afterward without much trouble. Now, though, her head ached, and she felt as if her entire body had been bruised between the last reality and this one. But she forced herself to her feet anyway, her eyes adjusting to the light as she steadied herself on a nearby wall.

It was cold under her palm, and her fingers caught a hard edge. Some kind of shelf? She used it to pull herself up and fought off a wave of dizziness.

The room she was in was cramped, barely large enough for her to walk three steps forward before she hit another wall. Was she in a cell of some sort? She swore she could hear voices, but they were distant and muffled. She couldn’t make out a word of what they were saying – couldn’t even tell if they were speaking a language she could understand.

When she backed up her shoulder caught the corner of something hard, and she toppled off her feet onto the hard ground, bringing a rain of hard metal and fabric down around her with a deafening crash.

“ _What in fury’s name was that?_ ”

Well…that wasn’t good.

Out of sheer instinct she scrambled backwards, sending pieces of whatever she had knocked over scattering around her knees. Her eyes had just barely adjusted to the light enough for her to make out the shape of some sort of helmet…a vambrace…a part of a chest plate. Armor – ridged and solid and oddly familiar.

She tucked herself between a solid metal barrier and the wall just as a door slid open on the other side of the room. The figure standing there was tall and broad, hands clenched into fists and face cast in shadow. But those eyes…they gleamed with the slightest hint of the light from the hall, sharp and yellow.

Allura’s fingers curled against the armor by her foot. _Galra._

The figure huffed, and Allura could practically hear the scowl on their face even if she couldn’t see it – they were still a backlit silhouette as they crossed their arms. “Damn new recruits hanging armor all wrong again,” they muttered. “I don’t have time for this…”

That was lucky for her, because the moment the figure turned and left, letting the door slide closed again behind them, she let out a breath that left her entire body feeling like jelly.

Now when she pulled one of the helmets into her lap and looked down at it, she could see the resemblance – deep purple plating, ridges above the ears and along the back of the, so large that it would make her look like a child if she tried putting it on. It was a bit different than the helmets she’d seen them wear before. Perhaps the Galra in this reality had different fashion sense.

Not _better,_ necessarily, from what little she could make out. But different.

But that left her with the question of just _how_ she was supposed to keep herself alive long enough for the device on her wrist to charge again. According to the readout she was nearly three vargas away from her next jump, and she couldn’t spend it sitting around what she was starting to suspect was a Galra supply closet.

Well, she _could,_ but it would be risky – not to mention _uncomfortable._ If a single Galra stepped inside and took more than a cursory look around, she’d be spotted for sure, and there was no telling what the Galra in this reality would do to her if they found her.

She didn’t much want to think about it.

No, she had to find somewhere better to hide. Some way to blend in. This was not Altea – there were no friendly faces to welcome her, no crowds or celebrations to help her keep a low profile. If her suspicions were right about just where she had ended up, she was going to need to be good and careful.

And she certainly couldn’t look like this. Her white and pink flight suit, her hair, skin, and markings – any one of them could give her away in a heartbeat. She glanced down at the helmet in her hands.

Too large for her…at least for now.

Perhaps the best strategy would be hiding in plain sight.

It was hardly the first time she’d focused her energy on lengthening her limbs, broadening her chest and shoulders, and changing the pigmentation of her skin. It was a familiar sensation, though not exactly a comfortable one, but strangely enough it helped to center her, slow her heart rate, and even out her breathing. It gave her something to focus on besides whatever was waiting for her on the other side of that door.

Maybe Galra in this universe were more understanding. More forward-thinking. Surely some of them were capable of that much. But she wasn’t that naïve. Not enough to wander out into the open without some kind of protection at least.

And speaking of protection…once her body had settled into its temporary new form – taller, bulkier, leaner – she reached for the helmet on the shelf just within reach.

It always surprised her just how… _comfortable_ Galra armor was, and in this reality it was no different. Strategically padded and carefully sculpted, it weighed on her shoulders and neck just enough to be noticeable, but there were no hard edges digging into her skin or sharp points jabbing into her ribs. She’d never considered the Galra to be a people who prioritized comfort much, but perhaps it made sense. After all, they spent an awful lot of time in their armor.

In all their time together, Allura had only seen Lotor _out_ of his own a handful of times.

But now was _not_ the time to think about _that._

She fought back the heat that threatened to spread over her cheeks and adjusted her helmet, making her way toward the door. Every breath seemed to fight against her as she pulled it into her lungs, her chest tight and her heart racing with every step she took. She could do this. She _had_ to do this. She had found the courage to set out on this journey, and she could find more to see it through, no matter what it took-

The door flew open before her hand reached it.

“What in the void are you _doing here?_ ” the hulking figure before her roared, yellow eyes gleaming with fury.

Allura braced herself for a blow, for a fight, for a prompt kicking into an airlock – but none came. Instead she stared up into those pupil-less eyes and swallowed, suddenly acutely aware that she had to find words.

The Galra before her was waiting for an answer. That was made painfully obvious by a harsh bark of, “ _Well?_ ”

“Ah…I…”

And then suddenly the figure sighed, her shoulders dropping as she reached up to massage her temples. “You know what? Forget it, new recruit. I don’t think I _want_ to know what you were doing in here.” She reached forward, hooking her sharpened claws underneath Allura’s breastplate and tugging her into the hall with enough force to make her stumble gracelessly. “Armor, helmet…where the quiznak is your weapon?”

“W-weapon?”

“You’re already late – probably napping in the supply closet like a lazy Zorkian blazeclaw fresh out of hibernation, and now you _lost your weapon?_ ”

Allura couldn’t see her mouth, hidden as it was behind a solid plate of armor resting over the bridge of her nose, but she sounded like she was speaking through tightly clenched teeth. “I wasn’t _napping_ ,” she found herself firing back. “I was…I…I was just-“

A hand jammed against her shoulder, sending her crashing back against the wall. The figure before her leaned in closer, eyes blazing. “Talk back again,” she growled, a deep furrow between her thick brows, “and you will regret it. Am I clear?”

Allura gulped. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” She tugged Allura straight on her feet again and reached for her hip, shoving a blade into Allura’s hands. “Take that and get your sorry back end to hangar one. This could very well be the first and only time the emperor and empress ever set foot on our sorry little outpost, and I’m going to make damn sure every one of us is there to greet them properly armed. That’s the Galra way.”

But Allura barely heard anything past “emperor and empress.”

Zarkon? Or was it Lotor? Or perhaps someone else entirely? And just who was the _empress_ in this equation? So many questions spun around her head that all she could do was stare dumbly down at the blade in her hands with her mouth hanging open.

An impatient growl brought her crashing back to reality. “Y-yes,” she forced out. “The Galra way. Of course. Vrepit sa!” She turned, heading down the corridor with her back straight and her head up, at least until a hand fell on her shoulder behind and turned her around as if she weighed nothing.

“Hangar one,” a familiar voice said, sounding equal parts exhausted and simmering with barely-contained fury, “is _that_ way. Whelp.”

“O-oh…yes. Of course.”

Somehow – against all odds – she managed _not_ to get tossed into an airlock as she made her way toward the hangar. It wasn’t far and was nearly impossible to miss, wide arching metal hydraulic doors hissing open as she approached and revealing the massive chamber, open to the wide expanse of stars. The telltale shimmer of an atmospheric forcefield covered the blackness of space at the far end of the hangar, and out in the distance, just barely within visible range, was a purple glint of an approaching ship.

The emperor, she thought, her mouth going dry. And the empress.

Galra flanked the sides of hangar, standing straight and staring with trepidation at the approaching speck in the distance. They barely seemed to notice her as she fell in line. She felt strangely invisible. Or perhaps compared to this emperor and empress – whoever they were – she was just painfully insignificant.

Closer and closer, the ship approached, growing more massive with each passing tick. With a sizzling hiss, it breached the forcefield, and all at once the tense silence gave way to the roar of its engines as it moved from the soundless vacuum of space into the hangar air.

She recognized that ship – one of the lesser royal Galra flagships, equipped with massively powerful engines and heavily armored, it hovered above the ground as it carefully dipped lower and lower. The heat coming off of its engines coupled with the smell of ozone made her nose wrinkle, and the heavy thud as it finally touched down rattled its way up her spine into her skull.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” one of the Galra beside her whispered, seemingly to nobody in particular. “A royal Galra flagship, right here in the Truxian outpost.” He laughed, bitterly. “Who’d have thought the emperor would bother coming this far out.”

“It was _her_ idea,” another replied with a huff. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

The first one laughed under his breath. “Don’t let the emperor hear you say that – he just might have you executed.”

“Like the empress would ever allow that – she wouldn’t have the stomach for it. Not like a Galra would.”

“Lucky for you then,” the first one said with a smirk. “Otherwise you just might-“

The last of his words were cut off by the deafening hiss of the main doors opening at the front of the ship, the ramp lowering before them as soft purple light flooded out from inside, catching tendrils of steam and dying them lilac. Allura stared, gaze so fixed on the opening that she barely remembered to stand at attention when the rest of the Galra did the same.

“Emperor Lotor,” a voice rang out from the front of the hangar. It was the same one from before – the imposing officer who had thrust a blade into Allura’s hands and pushed her brusquely in the right direction. “Empress Allura. Welcome to the Truxian sector.”

It was similar, and yet so entirely different from what she had experienced on Altea – looking across the room and catching a glimpse of _herself._ A version of her born and raised in a different reality. Instead of Altean robes and a prominent swollen belly, this version of her was wrapped in a tight purple grown, more like armor than any diplomatic attire she’d ever known, her silver hair pulled back in a tight braid plaited with black and gold netting.

And she stood beside Lotor. Shoulder to shoulder.

Allura’s heart raced.

He hooked his arm easily underneath her other self’s, and the two of them descended down the ramp together. “Lieutenant Raxi,” he said with a familiar diplomatic smile. “This is quite the warm welcome.”

The Galra woman – Raxi – dropped to one knee just as the emperor and empress reached the based of the ramp, her head hanging low enough that her short-cropped black hair fell over her eyes. “It’s an honor to welcome you here, your majesties.”

Wordlessly, Lotor lowered his hand into Raxi’s field of vision, gesturing for her to stand. She did, without hesitation. “There was never any doubt of the prowess of the forces stationed here on the outpost,” he told her. “It seems that you’ve kept the new recruits in line quite admirably.”

There was an amused lilt to his voice, almost a laugh. Allura swore she felt Raxi’s eyes flash in her direction as she said, “I’ve done only what was asked of me when I was given this position, sir.”

“And you’ve found it to your liking?” Allura’s other self asked, her hands folding in front of her in a gesture that Allura had to fight not to mirror. “I know it must be…difficult, being stationed so far on the fringes of the Galra territory.”

Raxi stood a bit straighter, her expression unreadable as she huffed, “Difficult or not, Galra tradition demands obedience and strength. Without complaint. I’d hardly be Galra at all if I didn’t see any challenge as an opportunity to grow stronger.”

There was something in her voice. A kind of venom that made Allura shiver. But her other self didn’t flinch – only smiled as warmly as ever. “Of course. And you are truly doing a magnificent job of it too.”

It was so quick that Allura barely caught it, but she swore she saw Lotor smirk.

The pounding of feet against metal drew her attention back to the ship again just as two more figures emerged – the first slid gracefully into the light, lip curling into a disapproving sneer as the second rushed past in a blur. “Prince Alforon, get _back_ here this instant!” Dayak snapped, but the child paid her no heed. He was grinning, _beaming_ as he rushed toward the emperor and empress, burying his face in the back of Lotor’s legs.

He looked no older than three or four deca-phoebs old, barely coming up to Lotor’s knees as he wrapped his arms around the emperor’s shins.

Allura watched, her heart aching for some reason that she couldn’t quite place as Lotor smiled fondly and knelt down to scoop the child up in his arms. “Now my little one,” he gently chided. “I distinctly remember telling you to mind Dayak until your mother and I finished here.”

“Dayak is _boring,_ ” the child insisted with a pout.

“Your lack of respect for these hallowed diplomatic proceedings is _abhorrent,_ ” Dayak huffed as she caught up with him again. “Must I remind you of the fate of old Zexus the Impatient when he neglected his duties during the Great Upheaval of-“

“It _has_ been a long journey,” the empress reminded her, and she turned back to Raxi with the same warm smile as before. “I’m sure the Lieutenant and her soldiers must understand. We could all use a good rest so that we can truly take everything in when we tour the outpost tomorrow.”

Dayak huffed, as did Raxi, but the latter hid it much more effectively. “Of course,” Raxi said with a short bow of her head. “Your quarters have already been prepared – we’ll have your things brought there immediately.”

Beside her, Allura heard the Galra from earlier whisper, “See? She’s good at that…wrapping people around her little finger. Maybe it’s an Altean thing.”

Allura bristled, doing her best to keep it from showing. Kept her eyes on Lotor as he and her other self headed for the doors with Dayak and the child in tow.

“He coddles that child,” the other Galra sneered. “And he’s not even his own blood.”

“He’s not?” she blurted, before she could stop herself, and oh – suddenly there were _eyes_ on her. Just what she _didn’t_ want.

The two whispering Galra stared at her with what she could only assume – from what she could see peeking out from the visors of their helmets – were confused expressions. “Just where did they find you, new recruit?” one of them asked. “You been living in a crater for the last three deca-phoebs?”

“Hey, in some sectors people still refuse to believe it,” the other said with a muted chuckle, and he turned to Allura again. “But trust me. Those rumors are all true…they plucked that pup off the fringes of the empire when he was barely dry and proclaimed him prince. A poor substitute for _real_ royal blood, but they just couldn’t make it happen the _right_ way.”

Allura’s brow pinched. “They…couldn’t conceive?”

“ _At attention!_ ”

Any hushed conversation halted the moment Raxi’s voice boomed throughout the hangar again, echoing off the metal walls into silence. Still and tense. Allura mimicked the actions of the others around her, holding her head up and her back straight. So straight her muscles almost spasmed as she watched Raxi walk, slowly, down the line of ranks, her arms clasped behind her back.

“You will return to your posts,” she said, eyes narrowing. Allura didn’t move. Didn’t look at her as she passed. She didn’t dare. Instead her gaze remained fixed on the far wall, only getting her a glimpse of yellow as Raxi passed her by. “You will attend to your duties. And you will show the emperor and _empress-_ “ Her lips curled over the word, like it left a bitter taste on her tongue. “-just why this outpost is the most valuable in the entire Galra empire. Am I clear?”

“ _Clear,_ ” the entire group answered in unison.

“Excellent.” Raxi nodded. “You have your orders. Do not make me repeat them.” Allura swore she felt those eyes piercing into her. “ _Vrepit sa!_ ”

“ _Vrepit sa!_ ”

“Vrepit sa…” she muttered before the crowd began to disperse, and she hazarded a quick glance over her shoulder as she was carried to the doors like she was caught in an ocean tide. Raxi stood by the flagship, her shoulders straight and her hands clasped behind her back as she stared up at it. From this angle, Allura couldn’t see her face, but there was something…purposeful in the way she stood.

What purpose that was, Allura couldn’t say. Perhaps it was the same way that all Galra seemed to be driven by _purpose._ For strength. For victory. In any case, she didn’t intend to stick around long enough to find out.

“Where’s your post, new recruit?” came a voice over one shoulder, and she turned fast enough to make her head spin.

“Huh?”

It was the Galra from before, standing almost a head taller than her, though not nearly as tall as he would have if she had been in her usual form. “Your post,” he said again. “Where’s your post? If Raxi catches you slacking off now of all times, you’ll regret it. Trust me.”

“I…er…” Her mind whirled. “Ah…patrolling the halls,” she finally said, praying that it would stick. “Night guard.”

For a moment she swore she could hear every pounding beat of her heart in her ears, ever breath seeming impossibly loud. But then the Galra smiled, almost sympathetically, and brought a hand down on her shoulder plate with a snorting laugh. “I don’t envy you then,” he said, and his armor brushed hers with enough force to make her stumble as he passed her by.

The mention of Raxi made her tense, though. There was something unsettling about not being able to see her when Allura knew she must still be nearby. It made her uneasy enough that she couldn’t help looking back over her shoulder more than she looked ahead as she scurried down the corridor and made a quick turn down a dim, narrow hallway. It was empty, save for her, and muted, distant voices carried down from around the corner, growing softer as she walked.

Her head was starting to ache from holding this form. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, but it had been so long since she last shifted so radically, and her body was already stressed from her last jump. But she could manage. She had to. She had a bit under two vargas left before she would be able to make the next one, and until then she just needed to avoid doing anything to bring herself any undue attention.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she sighed, and with one last glance over her shoulder – finding nothing but an empty stretch of hallway – she rounded the next corner and came face to face with a wide expanse of stars.

Massive, arching windows stretched out in front of her, all the way down the length of the corridor in both directions. The outside edge of the ship, facing the boundless, gaping maw of space that surrounded them. Allura let out a sigh – she had always found Galra ships and stations to feel inherently claustrophobic, like they folded in on her in every direction, locking her inside a metal bunker. This view, magnificent as it was, allowed her a moment to breathe.

There was a whole universe out there. And an infinite number more of them beyond that. So much more she had to search.

Compared to that, a little headache was nothing.

“ _Ah-_ “

Allura turned on her heel, toward the sound. A voice, clipped and breathless. It was muted, barely there at all, and for a moment she wondered if she’d started hearing things now. But then it came again, hushed and urgent, from just a few steps down the hall- “ _Yes._ ”

Brow furrowing, she moved closer, stopping in front of a closed door facing the windows. Out of instinct, she leaned in a bit, trying to get a better idea of just what – who? – was inside.

“ _Lotor…_ ”

She sucked in a breath and forgot to let it out. That was _her_ voice. Unmistakably. And the waver and breathlessness of it was _mortifyingly_ familiar as well. Her face grew hot, and just as she started to stumble backwards, another voice joined hers. A chuckle, deep and warm, that sent a shiver up her spine even now.

“You’re growing impatient, my queen,” Lotor said, his voice so muffled that she could barely make out the words. But they were so familiar, so close to a memory of her own-

_Growing impatient, princess?_

He’d said it to her the same way he said it now, on the other side of that door. Allura closed her eyes and could almost see it – the swirling pearlescent clouds in the quintessence field, the energy pulsing through her veins, Lotor’s hands teasing the tops of her hipbones as he peeled off her flight suit, _reverently._ And his voice had been so warm, so _kind,_ that it had almost torn her apart. So like the voice she heard now, on the other side of that door.

Emperor and empress. Leaders of the new Galra empire. Mother and father to a _child._ She couldn’t help but picture herself in Altea, sat on a throne surrounded by flowers and her loving people, arms folded over her rounded belly. And yet standing here, hearing his voice, imagining those hands wandering across her skin again – somehow this sent her mind reeling even more.

She finally managed to stumble backwards, elbow knocking against the window and smarting enough to pull her back to her senses. “It’s not real,” she whispered, rubbing her temples and trying to ignore any other hints of voices that carried through that blasted door. “Not for you…leave it be…”

“What’s that one?”

This voice was new, younger, less familiar. It carried from far down the corridor, beyond a gentle bend, and when she got close enough, she caught sight of its source. “That,” Dayak said, one neatly-groomed claw extending toward the stars, “-is the edge of the Ulthgrin sector.”

“No,” the young child insisted with a pout. “The consserration!”

Dayak huffed. “ _Constellation,_ you mean.” The child beamed at her, bouncing excitedly. “Hardly something a young prince needs to waste his time learning. Besides, constellations change depending on where you happen to be. They’re of little consequence to a star-faring race like the Galra.”

“Father says the Great Torchbearer is visible from here,” the child said, like he’d barely heard her. “He said I’d know because there’s a giant red star in it!”

“Volk’skeerin.” Dayak folded her hands neatly in front of her with a sage nod. “The largest red giant in this corner of the empire. It’s true – it marked the tip of the Kygil’s torch, visible from Daibazaal.” She glanced down at him, something resembling a fond smile pulling the wrinkles around her lips taught. “Do you know who Kygil was, child?”

“No, Auntie Dayak.”

“Kygil was a great Galra explorer, far before your time or mine. Or your mother or father’s. He charted a massive network of caves beneath the surface of Daibazaal, with only his torch and his dagger to keep him safe in the dark.” She straightened up and lapsed into silence as she looked out over the stars, squinting as she searched them. “There,” she said. “You can see him from here.”

The child’s eyes grew wide. “Where?”

Dayak knelt down beside him, tapping her claw on the glass to guide his eye to a shining red star in the darkness. “There. His torch is a bit crooked, it seems. But you can see him just there.”  

Allura looked out at the boundless abyss, and a shining red star caught her eye. If she tilted her head just so she swore she could make out the frame of a body, an outstretched arm…maybe that was Kygil after all. And maybe the child’s imagination would do more for the collection of pinpoints than her own did.

“You-“ She faced Dayak again, just in time to meet her eye. The old Galra woman stared down her nose at Allura, arms folded in front of her. “You had better not be here to insist we get ourselves to our chambers – your compatriots have already made that perfectly clear, and I’ll tell you just what I told them! The young prince has had a long voyage, and a good stretch of the legs is as good for the growing mind as it is for the growing muscles!”

“I…I wasn’t…er…”

Dayak’s eyes narrowed as she took a step closer. “There’s something…different about you.” Allura’s heart pounded. “Reminds me of that blasted crooked torch. What’s your name?”

 _It’s not important,_ she wanted to say. _I’m just a guard. Just a normal Galra guard. Don’t mind me-_

“Ah, Dayak.”

That _voice._

“Father!” the young child sang, rushing past Allura’s legs. She didn’t dare turn around to look. She couldn’t. Not even when she heard that warm laugh mixing with the boy’s giggles.

“There you are, Alforon,” Lotor breathed. “Have you been giving your Auntie Dayak any trouble?”

“Hardly any trouble at all,” Dayak huffed. “He’s behaved himself admirably, all things considered. Though he still insists on rushing into your arms every chance he gets. He should grow out of that soon.”

“He’s still just a pup, Dayak.” There was an edge of _insistence_ in Lotor’s voice. Unyielding and stubborn. Allura wondered if he was making up for lost time – making up for all the times he wanted to rush into his father’s arms only to be denied that comfort as a child himself. The smile was back in his words again as he said, “You’ll have plenty of time to explore the outpost tomorrow, so do save _some_ of that boundless energy of yours for then.”

He paused, went silent, and Allura swallowed as she swore she could feel his gaze on the back of her head. “Ah…who is this now? Soldier?”

The visor covering her eyes and hair would shield her, and Lotor had no reason to command her to remove it. She would have to risk it. She would have to face the emperor. And face him she did. She turned, taking in the sight of him, dressed in his familiar Galra garb, armored from shoulder to shin, with the child cradled in one arm. “Yes…your majesty.”

His hair was slightly disheveled, his face oddly flushed. She did her very best not to think about just why that was.

For a moment – just a moment, so quick she barely realized it – he stared at her, his brow pinching. Like he could tell that something was _off_ about her, just as Dayak had. But he wasn’t so blunt to voice it the same way. Instead he let out a breath. “I certainly hope Dayak didn’t try and bite your head off for trying to see her to her chambers.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “She doesn’t like being corralled, you see.”

“ _Corralled,_ ” Dayak spat, but it only made Lotor laugh again.

“The hospitality here on the outpost has been impressive, to say the least. And much appreciated. But for now, all we need is rest. So you’re dismissed for the moment.”

“Y-yes of course,” she said, her tongue so dry it felt like dead weight in her mouth. She bowed her head and slipped past him down the hall.

“So you and Empress Allura have been _resting,_ is that it?” she head Dayak say.

“Recovering from a long journey,” Lotor told her, almost flippantly, and she could practically _picture_ the smirk on his face as he did.

The outpost was larger than she’d first realized, sprawling in a wide ring with structural spokes that extended from its center like a lopsided wheel. At least that was what it looked like to her as she studied the map of corridors and rooms displayed on the hallway monitor. She wished she could find a starmap instead; curiosity ate at her when she thought of this new Galra empire. She wondered if the Coalition had joined in the alliance she’d always dreamed of, if Lotor on the throne in this reality truly meant the peace he had spent so long promising in her own.

Even if mattered little to the people waiting for her back in her reality, she couldn’t help her _wondering._ It kept her mind off the headache brewing behind her temples from staying in this form for so long after so may phoebs without shifting. The altered flow of quintessence through her body wore on her, and her legs were starting to weaken from spending so long on her feet using muscles that were already stretched thin with added length.

But she kept walking, pacing, wandering down one corridor and the next. The last thing she needed was to draw more attention to herself sitting on the floor of the hall while she waited for the device to recharge for her next jump.

“Sir, I promise…everything is in place.”

That voice…it was familiar. Allura froze outside the door, eyes drawn to the tiny space between it and the metal frame. A jammed closure mechanism prevented a complete seal and allowed her to hear every word from inside, albeit quiet and muffled. She leaned closer.

“The emperor and empress have arrived. Along with that whelp of theirs.” She winced at Raxi’s tone. Full of the venom that she’d thought she could hear just below the surface before. But she wasn’t bothering to hide it now. “And the governess too. But she won’t pose any problem.”

“Good,” rumbled a response, and that voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I take it you mean to proceed as planned.”

“Yes, Admiral Sendak. Tonight.” There was a pause, and what sounded like hesitation in Raxi’s voice as she added, “And sir…what should I do with the pup?”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No! No, of course not. His blood is worthless, but he…he’s no threat himself. Not without the emperor and empress providing him a claim to the throne-“

“There is no _claim,_ ” Sendak hissed. “He has none. And no power to back up any claim he might choose to make. You said it yourself Raxi – his blood is worthless to us.”

“So I should-“

“Yes.” He huffed. “Make it quick if it will ease your conscience, but hesitate and I promise that I will _not_ when I remove your head from your shoulders.”

“I assure you that won’t be necessary,” Raxi said, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “It will be done, sir. _Vrepit sa!_ ”

“Vrepit sa.”

“Oh stars,” she breathed, and the moment it left her lips she caught a flash of yellow eyes whipping toward her. Raxi. Staring straight at her.

She barely had time to back up a step before a hand was pressed against her throat, slamming her back against the wall with such force that she couldn’t get in another breath. Stars exploded behind her eyes, whiting out her vision save for Raxi’s piercing glare. “You little _rat,_ ” she hissed. “I knew I smelled trouble the second I saw you, recruit – just _begging_ to give me an excuse to throw you straight out of the airlock.” She grinned – a sour, malicious thing. “Looks like I’ve found one now.”

“ _Lieutenant,_ ” came a booming voice down the hall, and time seemed to freeze. How Allura managed to turn her head to look, she wasn’t sure, but the moment she saw Lotor marching toward them, her eyes widened in horror. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Raxi’s grip loosened in an instant, leaving Allura to nearly crumple to the floor as she desperately dragged a rough and greedy breath into her lungs. “Nothing,” the lieutenant replied, her voice coated in manufactured sweetness. “Nothing, your majesty.” She bowed deeply, and as she did, Allura caught a flash.

Metal. Fine and sharpened to a thin point between Raxi’s claws. Not long enough to kill, but gleaming with a sickly green hue in the light.

 _“Poison is not the Galra way,_ ” Lotor had told her once, in her own reality. _“But there are some that find uses for it…nefarious, underhanded uses meant to debilitate and humiliate a victim before the final kill.”_

“Don’t,” she tried to wheeze as Lotor stopped a full three strides’ breadth away from her. Eyeing her carefully. Calculatingly. But her voice was nothing more than a whisper, and it was silenced when Raxi pressed her foot against her chest and jammed her against the wall again.

“Surely there are more _efficient_ ways of dealing with insubordination,” Lotor said, his gaze moving from Allura’s visor to Raxi’s eyes with calm, strategic ease. He moved no closer, his shoulders squared, his stance wide.

A combat stance. Defensive. He sensed it too – that malice in her.

“Of course,” Raxi sighed with a bow of her head, and as quickly as it had appeared, that glint of metal disappeared from view once more. “But your majesty, I trust you understand…I have my ways of dealing with disloyal soldiers.” She glared at Allura again, spitting the word at her like venom: “ _Traitors._ ”

“A traitor, is she?” Lotor’s voice was steady, one brow raised. “I see.”

Against her better judgment, Allura opened her mouth again: “ _Lotor-_ “

“Father!”

“Alforon, stop this _instant!_ ”

The patter of feet down the hall, small and eager, and time seemed to slow. Allura saw the child round the corner, saw Lotor’s eyes widen as he whipped straight past his legs, saw Raxi’s arms tense reflexively. She tried to move, tried to cry out, tried to do _something._ But before she could, Lotor moved – he was fast.

Raxi was faster.

The child let out a whimper – confused and frightened as her arm wrapped around his tiny throat, and a flash of metal later there was a blade pressed there as well. “Not a move,” she hissed. “Not one, or you’ll regret it until the moment you draw your last breath.”

Allura watched, frozen where she stood, as Alforon squirmed in her grasp. “F-father-“

“Be still, welp.”

“ _Alforon-_ “

Her other self was halfway down the hall when Lotor raised a clawed hand to his side. “Allura, don’t!” There was terror in his voice. It echoed in his words just as it made his shoulders shudder and his breath catch. But his eyes…what made them blaze with such heat and intensity was nothing short of _fury._ “You traitorous worm,” he breathed, barely more than a whisper. “Lay one scratch on him, and I swear-“

“Enough promises,” Raxi told him, holding her poisoned blade under the child’s jaw. “Enough words out of you and your precious Altean empress. I serve the Galra – the Fire of Purification. The _true_ Galra!”

“Sendak,” Allura managed to wheeze, and Lotor’s eyes flicked toward her before they fixated back on Raxi again.

“Sendak?” he growled. “That beast-“

“Let him go,” she heard her other self plead. Allura watched her own hands shaking as they curled into anxious fists. “He’s done nothing to you – he’s a _child-_ “

“He’s a threat to the Empire’s future,” Raxi sneered. “A worthless welp being groomed to claim a throne he has no right to!” For a moment – just a moment – Allura swore her hand shook, making the blade glint oddly in the light. “And it isn’t up to me. I do as Admiral Sendak commands.”

“He hasn’t held the title of admiral in deca-phoebs,” Lotor told her. “Not since he was exiled from the Empire, and where is he now? Sending underlings to do his dirty work instead of facing me himself? What kind of Galra behaves so cowardly?”

Raxi huffed, her hand tightening on the hilt of her blade. “Enough talk,” she said. “Give me your throat instead, and I’ll spare the child.”

 _No she won’t,_ Allura wanted to scream. She tried, but no sound came.

“End your reign, and the child goes free!” Raxi insisted, eyes wild and enraged, and before Allura could fight to get out another word, a chiming sound echoed from her wrist.

The next jump – charged and ready.

Raxi’s head turned toward her for only a half a tick, but it was enough – Lotor moved with such desperate speed that he was almost a blur, and the blade went sliding across the floor as he wrenched the child from her grasp. Allura watched the green-tinted metal gleaming in the light by her boot, a sickly emerald reflection staring back at her, and before she felt herself doing so, she was reaching for it.

Raxi’s claws swiped past her arm as she grasped at it in the same moment, but it was Allura’s fingers that curled around its hilt. She struck without thinking, pitching forward and jamming the blade down into the floor tiles. Through the back of Raxi’s hand.

She howled in agony, hunching her shoulders and staring at her with such fury and disdain that it made Allura’s stomach turned, and when the lieutenants eyes went wide with confusion and horror, she finally realized that her visor had been knocked off in the fray.

Purple skin and yellowed eyes couldn’t hide the truth of her features. Her white hair. Her sacred marks. From either side of the hall a crowd began to form, and all eyes were on her. Including Lotor’s including her own.

“Who in the stars-“ Raxi growled, “-are you?”

Instead of answering, Allura jammed her palm against the device on her wrist, and let the light envelope her and pull out from under the innumerable dumbfounded gazes. Into white. Into safety. At least for a few precious ticks.  


	4. Chapter 4

The gentle hum of engines beneath Allura’s body woke her. They thrummed in a steady pattern, like a heartbeat under her palms. Familiar, soothing – so much so that she almost gave in to the urge to close her eyes again and drift back to sleep. She groaned as she forced herself up, running her fingers through the dried sweat in her bangs and gripping the sheets under her hand.

Her bed. Her room. It was all just as she’d left it on the Castle of Lions. Dim light glowing blue from her nightstand, the hum of the engines permeating the space, the smell of cool, filtered air.

Earth, Altea, the Galra outpost…for a moment she wondered if it could have all been some elaborate, exhausting dream. But then she glanced at her wrist.

Three jumps left, and two-and-a-half vargas before her next one.

Of course it was real. And just like she had on that alternate Altea, she couldn’t help but feel her chest tighten as she took in the sight of such familiar surroundings. This wasn’t _her_ room, and it wasn’t _her_ bed. Not truly.

And she couldn’t laze around here as if they were.

She stood on unsteady legs, taking a careful breath to gather her strength before heading for the door. The castle was quiet – nobody in the halls. From the light level and the sound of the engines she was almost certain it was still a varga or two before the night cycle, but there was no telling just where everyone might be.

Or _who_ they might be. Perhaps this was the Castle of Lions, but there were literally infinite possibilities. There could be another version of herself roaming these halls, or quite possibly a hoard of unfamiliar faces who would never recognize her. But at the very least it wasn’t Galra territory.

As far as she could tell, anyway. She prayed she was right in assuming.

The door slid open for her when she reached it, and she poked her head out into the hall. It was quiet, dim – it made it easy for her to make her way down the corridor to her left.

If she was quiet, and _lucky,_ she was heading straight for the archive room. Even if this universe was not her own, there was a chance she could make the most of it, recover some information that had been lost in her reality. Or at the very least learn just how different this place was from hers.

At the end of the hall a door slid open with a quiet hiss, and she had her back pressed against the wall before she realized she was even moving. She barely breathed as she watched two figures turn down the hall, away from her. “I’m telling you, man,” the first said, and she could barely believe the voice was so familiar. “I think he’s cooking might be even better than Hunk’s.”

“Don’t let Hunk hear you say that,” the second answered with a snort. “We don’t want to start _another_ war.”

“But just think about it – a _bake-off!_ Between a 10,000 year old Galra emperor and a Garrison engineer.”

“ _Lance-_ “

“Think of _all the great food,_ Keith!”

Keith sighed. “You know we’d just get stuck cleaning up the kitchens after…”

“Worth it,” she thought she heard Lance say, but their voices were fading down the hall as they turned the corner. Even long after they’d disappeared, Allura stared, her fingers curled against her chest.

Keith…Lance…Hunk…they were _here._ Or at least their alternate selves were. But for the briefest of moments she didn’t care if it was a different reality. She didn’t care if this wasn’t _her_ ship or if those weren’t _her_ friends. Just like, in a way, she hadn’t cared that the Altea she’d set foot on hadn’t been _her_ Altea.

It was close enough. For now, at least.

She pressed forward, following them down the corridor before branching off down a smaller hall that led to the archives. She could have walked the path with her eyes closed, she knew it so intimately – she barely had to give it a single thought as she pressed her hand to the door and felt it open for her.

The console at the center of the darkened room glowed a deep cerulean, beckoning her forward. It was warm to the touch as she rested her palm against it, and it blazed to life before her, Altea text swirling in front of her eyes: _Welcome, Allura._

She let out a shaking breath and raised her fingers to the holographic display. “Show me the most current star map of the Voltron Coalition.”

With the map lit up before her eyes, she could barely breathe. It stretched across her entire field of view, at least twice the size she had ever seen it before, even at its peak. In fact, it took up almost all of the planets and moons in their known territory, including many that had been so deep under Galra control that they had loomed as challenges even after Lotor had taken the throne.

This was what she had always pictured when she imagined the end of the war. This was what she had always thought it would look like for them to _win._

“Bring up the ship logs. List all current residents of the castle.”

The list populated in only a tick, and her heart pounded in her ears as she scanned it. _Princess Allura of Altea, High Advisor Coran of Altea, Takashi Shirogane of Earth, Katie Holt of Earth, Lance McClain of Earth, Keith Kogane of Earth, Hunk Garret of Earth, Emperor Lotor of Daibazaal._

The last name seemed to swirl around her mind like a brewing storm. Emperor Lotor…a resident of the ship, registered and accounted for. That meant he had his own chambers, his own access to the ship. He was _one of them._

One of their patchwork family.

“Who are the paladins of Voltron?” she asked, voice quavering.

_Lance McClain, Blue Paladin_

_Keith Kogane, Red Paladin_

_Hunk Garret, Yellow Paladin_

_Katie Holt, Green Paladin-_

“Hold it right there.”

She straightened but didn’t turn quite. Another voice – one that resonated in her memory and made her breath shudder. She stared straight ahead, her hands frozen at her sides as she glanced up at the reflection in the holo-screen. Green and white.

“Pidge?” she breathed.

“Turn around,” the paladin commanded, and the light of her bayard shone out like a beacon in the darkened doorway. “Guys…I found our intruder. In the archive room.”

“Be right there,” Shiro’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Be careful, Pidge.”

“I said turn around!” Her eyes narrowed. “Slowly.”

Swallowing, Allura did.

For a moment – just the briefest of moments – Pidge lowered her bayard. Only an inch or so. “A…Allura? But…but weren’t you just…I just saw you in the…”

“I can explain,” Allura said. “It’s complicated…but I can.”

But Pidge was already canting her head toward her shoulder to speak into the communicator: “Guys, is Allura still with you.”

“Yes,” Allura’s own voice answered, “I’m still on the command deck with Coran and Lotor.”

A flash of confusion made Pidge blink, her eyes darting back up to meet Allura’s again, and just as quickly as it had appeared, that confusion faded into suspicion. She raised her bayard again. “Who are you?”

“Pidge…” Allura raised her hands. “I know this looks strange-“

“How did you get on this ship? How did you get _into the archives?_ How did you get past the biometric scanner?”

“I’ll explain if you just-“

“Pidge!” Lance was next through the door, Hunk close behind, and both of them practically skidded to a stop. “Huh? Allura? But you were just-“

“That’s _not Allura!_ ” Pidge insisted, bayard still raised. “I don’t…I don’t know how they got in, but that’s not her.”

Even watching Lance and Hunk’s eyes turn to her with distrust, even watching them reach for their bayards, Allura felt no fear. She stood, stone-still, hands raised by her ears, meeting their gazes one at a time.

They were young…they were so young. Sometimes she forgot just _how_ young. And they could be impulsive and emotional and careless. But even these alternate versions of her paladins – her _friends_ – must have had at least an echo of the people she knew. And those people were many things, but none of them were cruel.

“Guys,” Lance said over the communicator. “Something weird’s going on here.”

“How weird is _weird?_ ” Keith answered.

“Just _weird,_ okay? Like…evil clone levels of weird.”

Allura’s mind flooded with images of Shiro, those flat, dead eyes staring back at them as he carried Lotor’s unconscious body to the ship. His frame limp in her arms. The feeling of his soul twisting alongside of her own, radiating such uncertainty and _terror._ Her heart leaped into her throat, and she finally blurted, “I am _not_ a clone!”

All eyes turned toward her again, and Hunk said, “Then what are you?”

“I’m Princess Allura of Altea, daughter of King Alfor and Queen Melenor. Leader of the Voltron Coalition and Paladin of the Blue Lion.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “ _I’m_ Blue’s paladin.”

“Not where I’m from,” she told him. “At least not anymore. Things are…are different there. But not so different that I don’t know you.” Her fingers curled against her palms, her hands shaking. “Please…paladins…I can explain. I can explain everything if you’ll just-“

The door slid open again, and Allura stopped short. Stopped speaking. Stopped breathing. Stopped shaking. Because there, in the doorway, she caught a flash of white and black. Paladin armor.

And in it, _Lotor._

“By fury,” he breathed as his gaze found her. “It’s true.”

He stepped forward, between Lance and Hunk, stopping beside Pidge until she glanced up at him. “I don’t know how she got in here,” Pidge muttered. “I don’t know how she could access the archives. That’s some of the best biometric locking tech there _is._ ”

Lotor stared at her, his eyes intent and blazing as he looked her over. Allura could _feel_ them, moving up her body, studying her face, but all she could see when she looked at him was that _armor._

“You’re…you’re a paladin,” she breathed. “Lotor…”

Slowly, Lotor lifted his hand and laid it overtop of Pidge’s bayard, the touch barely there. “Lower your weapons.”

“ _What?_ ” Lance sputtered. “But what if she’s a clone? What if this is a Haggar trick-“

“Lower them,” he insisted, never turning away from her. “The witch is long dead, and even if there may be vestiges of her tricks still running around the universe, this is not one of them.”

“You’re…sure?” Hunk hazarded.

Lotor stepped forward, closer to her, close enough that she could touch him if she only reached out. Never once did he look away from her, his eyes gleaming in the azure glow of the console.

And then, he dropped to his knee before her.

“Princess,” he said, his head bowed. Her breath left her lungs in one rattling gasp as her arms slowly lowered to her sides again. “Forgive the…less than warm welcome.”

Over his shoulder, she saw Pidge’s lips silently form around the words: _What the fuck?_

* * *

Allura kept her eyes locked on Lotor’s back as they made their way down the corridor. Toward the command room, she knew from the path he was taking. Behind her, Pidge, Hunk, and Lance were still staring, still wary. She couldn’t blame them for that. Even after all she’d seen on her journey so far, she was certain she would have been wary too.

“Another Allura,” Lance breathed, and if he was trying to be discreet, he was doing a very poor job. “Normally I’d be all for that, but in practice I’m not so sure.”

“Dude,” Pidge sighed. “Jokes? Now? Really?”

“What? It’s how I break tension.”

That, strangely enough, made her smile. A little flash of familiarity was something to grasp ahold of, something to ground her despite her mind reeling at the sight of Lotor’s hair spilling down over the back of that armor.

Black Paladin. She had never thought it possible. But perhaps much more was possible than she had first thought. This journey had surely taught her that much.

Perhaps he truly was more like his father than she’d ever realized. In all of the ways she had never given him the benefit of considering when it mattered most.

Her chest ached.

They reached the doors, and when they slid open, she straightened up out of instinct as every eye turned toward her.

“Oh my God,” Keith muttered. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Why would we kid about something like this?” Hunk huffed. “I mean, sure, Lance might-“

“ _Hey._ ”

Lotor ignored the outburst, clasping his hands behind his back and stepping aside to give her an unobstructed view of the command deck – just as she remembered it. “I’m sure this must be somewhat odd,” he said.

“Odd is _right,_ ” Coran piped up, making his way straight for her and leaning in close. “Ancients above, you…you truly are the spitting image of the princess.”

“I _am_ the princess,” she insisted, before she could stop herself. “A…a version of her. Me. Us?” She let out a sigh. “It’s all…rather complicated.”

“Complicated is _right too-_ “

“Coran,” Shiro said. “Maybe…give her some space?” He stopped beside Lotor, and Allura couldn’t help but notice the way his right shoulder ended in a neatly covered stump, plated over by a the light armor uniform of an Altean commander. She recognized the garb – it had sat in storage on the ship for deca-phoebs. Unused. But it fit him well now, gold and white fabric weaving together the blue plates over his chest and shoulders.

“I-I’m alright,” she managed to say, but then she looked up and caught sight of her reflection – or it seemed that way at first. She watched her mirror image descend from the console, hair hanging over the front of her dress. It was longer than she expected, Allura noticed. Longer than she’d ever kept it before.

Her doppelganger’s eyes were wide and curious, and Allura could practically _see_ the racing thoughts whipping around behind them. Thought’s she’d had herself more than enough times along this journey of hers.

“From experience,” she sighed, “I know this must be awfully strange.”

“Just…a bit, yes,” her other self admitted, taking a few steps toward her with her brow pinched and her lips pursed – did she really look like that when she was thinking? “Lotor, you’re sure this isn’t…”

One of Haggar’s tricks. She didn’t need to finish the sentence for the meaning to be perfectly clear. But Lotor held her gaze when Allura looked at him, never wavering. “Certain, Princess.”

“I’m still running some diagnostics on the ship’s data storage,” Pidge insisted, the light of the console reflecting off of her glasses. “Just in case…”

Something about that made Allura smile. This Pidge was so much like the one she knew – though, she noticed, perhaps just a hair taller. “If you feel it’s warranted,” Allura told her. “But I’d just as soon tell you exactly what I was doing in the archives. I wanted…I needed to find out more about you all. About this place. And how it might differ…from…”

“Your own reality?” Lotor finished for her, as plainly as if he’d known it was coming from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. As if he could tell from the start that she wasn’t from anywhere in this universe. She turned and stared at him, finding his expression calm and almost…understanding.

“Waitwaitwait,” Lance stammered. “Are you saying that _this_ Allura-“ He jabbed his thumb in her direction. “-is from an _alternate universe?_ ”

Lotor nodded. “I’m certain of it, yes.”

Lance’s eyes were wide, his jaw hanging open. “So you’re what, some kind of…bizarro Allura?”

“I’m a _what_ now?” she couldn’t help but sputter.

Shiro let out a steadying breath. “Alternate realities…I thought travel between universes was next to impossible.”

“We _have_ seen it ourselves,” Keith said. “But still…this whole thing is so…”

“Crazy?” Hunk offered.

“Little bit, yeah.”

“I suppose we’re all hoping for some answers,” Allura’s other self said. “Myself included, I must admit…”

“Just how different _is_ this…other universe?” Pidge piped up, sounding more curious by the tick. “There are theories all over the place about branching realities and how diverse they can really be. There are probably thousands – _millions_ of universes where none of us were ever born. Or ones where we never piloted Voltron.” She smirked. “There’s probably even a universe where Lance pilots the black lion.”

“ _Dude-_ “

“My reality is…not so different, from what I can tell,” Allura said. “Voltron is alive and well, as are all of you.”

Well…mostly. She avoided Lotor’s eye, chewing her lip.

“And I’m _not_ in Black?” Lance asked, sounding cautiously hopeful.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

He pouted, but Hunk leaned over his shoulder. “I’m still the leg though right?”

She managed a smile. “Yes, Hunk. You’re still the leg.”

“ _Yesss…_ ”

Her smiled faded as quickly as it had come. “Except…the war is still raging where I come from. The Coalition is crippled, and Haggar is threatening the entire universe, including Earth.” She finally forced herself to look at Lotor, finding his brow pinched in concern and a deep frown creasing the skin around his mouth. “That’s why I’m here. I’m…looking for someone who can help. Or at the very least that’s what I’m hoping for.”

“That doesn’t quite answer what you’re doing here on the ship,” Keith said. “Not that you’re not…well…welcome, I guess. Since you are still the princess and all…”

She let out a sigh and lifted her wrist to her eye level. “I don’t have much power over where I end up, I’m afraid. And only so much energy to rely on to get me home when I’m finished. This device is attuned to my quintessence signature, but other than that…”

Pidge was on her feet less than a tick later, adjusting her glasses excitedly as she rushed over and leaned in close. Her nose nearly brushed Allura’s fingers, her eyes growing wide and inquisitive. “This thing…it looks like Altean tech. But it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Hm, agreed,” Coran mused, leaning down until the two of them were shoulder to shoulder gazing at Allura’s wrist. “But there’s no mistaking that glow – that’s the distinct pulse pattern of a Balmeran crystal! I’m betting that’s the power source, eh?” He straightened up, tugging at his mustache. “Something that size would give you enough power for only a handful of jumps…like searching for a needle in a pricklegrass stack!”

“Still, a personal teleporter?” Lance mused. “Sounds pretty convenient to me.”

Allura barely had time to grimace at the thought of just how _inconvenient_ it truly was before an incoming message alert lit up the console. “Oh, that’s Romelle,” Hunk said. “Uh…should I tell her to call back later? You know, when we don’t have all whole doppelganger situation going on.” He glanced over at her. “No offense.”

“We shouldn’t make her wait,” Lotor sighed. “She might have news about the colony.”

Allura’s breath punched its way out of her, making her sway on her feet. “The _colony?_ ”

Suddenly she could feel every bit of attention turning to her again, and she couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of how the words had just _burst_ out of her before she could stop them. “Oh yes,” Coran finally said. “A huge Altean colony, nice and tucked away and secluded from the war. Although ah…well, it’s a bit…complicated, I’ll admit…”

She didn’t miss the way his eyes darted over to Lotor as he spoke in a low, almost hushed tone.

Complicated was certainly one word for it – complicated, twisted, _horrifying._ The thought of those people, sapped of their life force and stashed away in eternal cryogenic comas…it made her feel sick even now. Made her want to run and hide away from any more talk of that wretched colony. And yet she had come so far – _too_ far not to reach out for the truth. She had to know. She had to put these racing thoughts and uncertainties to bed.

“I’ll tell Romelle to call back,” Hunk offered uncertainly, his eyes darting between Allura and her counterpart – who she realized now had a deep crease forming between her brows. Just how much did they know? More than she did? Less?

Stars, she didn’t know which would be worse.

She _had_ to know.

“The colony,” she said, shuddering. “How did you…how did you find it? How much…did you…”

The princess let out a sigh. “Hunk.” Hunk’s head whipped around to face her. “Perhaps you could check in with Romelle in the observatory? If she has news we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

His eyes flicked from her to Lotor and back again. “Right. Observatory. On it.”

“And Pidge – I’m sure you can finish running your diagnostics from the archives.”

“Oh, I already finished-“ Shiro caught her eye as he nodded toward the door, already heading that way himself. “Um…right…I should definitely do that.”

Lance had his arms firmly crossed over his chest. “So _nobody_ wants to stick around and find out more about this alternate reality stuff?”

“Come on, Lance,” Keith insisted, pressing a palm against Lance’s shoulder and practically tugging him backwards off his feet.

“ _Okay._ Okay, geez…”

“Suppose I should make sure Romelle hasn’t run into any trouble,” Coran muttered as he followed after them, mustache pinched so tightly between the pads of his thumb and forefinger that she wondered if it would start to fray.

Soon only Lotor remained, stationed between the two of them with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked…worn, somehow. Like the last few dobashes had aged him. Though perhaps that was just a trick of the light. And perhaps so was the way his gaze softened when the princess’s hand brushed against his arm.

There were no words exchanged. The touch seemed to be enough. Lotor bowed his head low before turning to leave them, and when the door hissed closed again, the silence weighed heavily against her shoulders.

“Stars…” her counterpart breathed. “This is truly…astonishing, isn’t it?” She managed a smile, even if it seemed like a placating gesture more than anything else. “At the very least I can honestly say I never expected to meet…well ah…me…”

It almost made her laugh, the absurdity of it all. If there hadn’t been a coiled knot of unease twisting in the pit of her stomach, she might have managed it. “The colony…” she breathed. “Romelle…how much did you…”

“We found the second colony,” her other self told her, not wasting a single tick. It made sense, she supposed, that if anyone would know any other answer would be a waste of time, it was her. “The pods…the…bodies…just as I’m sure you did.”

Allura swallowed. “And Lotor…”

This time, her counterpart’s laugh was bitter. Hollow. “I didn’t want to believe it. It was all too…too _horrific._ I thought it had to be some kind of trick.”

Allura’s hands curled into anxious fists as she remembered the voice screaming in the back of her mind the moment everything had come crashing down around her: _Stars help me, don’t let it be true._

“And then I was angry. Furious. Moreso than I’ve ever been before in my life. Partially at Lotor, and…well, mostly at…”

_Stupid girl – how could you be so blind?_

“I remember,” Allura admitted, and the princess caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Tell me,” she finally said, slowly, as if proceeding with caution. “Did he ever tell you…did you ever find out what those pods were _for?_ ”

Allura’s breath shuddered on its way out. The answer – the _truth..._ Could it really be so close? Could it really be as simple as asking for it? “N-no. I never…everything happened so quickly…I never had the chance…”

“I almost didn’t,” the princess said. “When we threw him back into that holding cell I thought that surely I would leave him there to rot. But then we almost lost Shiro, and Keith too…we almost lost the entire ship and everyone on board, and I…well I suppose it made me realize that it didn’t quite make sense.” She shook her head, staring down at her hands, but Allura could see it in her eyes – the same uncertainty and frustration that she’d seen in the mirror so many times before. It was eerie, how identical the expression was.

And she was right – it _didn’t_ make sense. But this time instead of dreams vivid enough to echo well into the morning, she was hearing it in her very own voice. It felt like a rush of icy water over the back of her neck.

“The pods,” she forced herself to say. “What were they for. Tell me…please…”

Her counterpart’s expression was somber. “They were stasis pods,” she breathed. “Just like the ones here in the castle. Almost identical, actually. And the Alteans in them were alive…though only barely.”

Allura’s heart plummeted. “Stasis…pods…”

“There was a sickness spreading through the colony. Deca-phoebs without a proper connection to the quintessence field made the people…unstable. Their bodies and minds became so fragile that almost nothing could be done to help. They simply…withered away.” Her fingers curled over her heart, her eyes closing. “Even after we defeated Haggar it took us phoebs of work to find a way to stabilize the colony. I…I wish I could have done more…and sooner…but…”

“You did more than I ever could, princess,” Lotor insisted, and Allura was almost numb as she turned toward the sound of his voice. As he stepped inside and let the door close behind him, he again bowed his head. “Forgive me. I know you wanted to be alone, but I thought perhaps…there might be more I could explain.”

Allura’s mouth was dry, her heart aching.

Stasis pods.

They were _stasis pods._

_Healing technology._

And suddenly she could see it on his face – the pain and guilt and shame that she had glimpsed so many times before when he thought she couldn’t see. _Agony_ stemming from being forced to watch, over and over, as people deteriorated and slipped away.

She had _seen_ it. As plain as day, and she hadn’t realized. She hadn’t understood. She hadn’t _listened._

She swayed on her feet. “I need to…I need to sit. Please…I need to sit down…”

Hazily, she felt a hand on her shoulder guiding her into a seat at the console just ticks before her knees gave out underneath her, and her skin tingled where Lotor’s fingers had brushed against her when he pulled away. “In your universe,” he said, calmly, “I presume I…I’m no longer alive.”

Allura felt nauseous. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her gaze locked on the floor. “Last I saw…you were being consumed in the quintessence field…driven mad…”

He swallowed, and for the first time, she thought she saw true fear glinting in his eyes. “Driven mad by the quintessence…” He glanced up at the princess with a humorless laugh. “I suppose you were right to hold back from entering the field a second time. Perhaps my mind truly would have been too weak to handle such an influx of power…”

“Still, we gained so much from that first trip in the Sincline ships,” her other self answered, and Allura shivered at the odd sensation of feeling her own hand press against her shoulder. “If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t have been able to save the Alteans from that colony. And perhaps…perhaps there’s still hope in your reality too.”

Maybe. There was always a chance, but Allura wasn’t sure it was that simple. Perhaps thinking so would have been naïve of her. As naïve as thinking that it wasn’t her fault that she was in this mess in the first place. That they all were.

If she’d only _listened…_

She tried to stand and wobbled on her unsteady legs.

Lotor’s voice was distorted, distant, as he leaned closer. “Princess, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, more forcefully than she’d meant to. Why hadn’t she listened? Why hadn’t she let him speak? Why hadn’t she reined in her anger long enough to find the truth in her own universe? “I’m…I’m fi…fine…”

The world was blurring in front of her, spinning and swirling together like smudged paint on canvas.

“ _Allura_ -“

Lotor’s voice was the last thing she heard before she pitched forward into blackness.

* * *

Waking up in her own bed didn’t feel real. Like opening her eyes on Altea after her first jump through the rift, it was like resurfacing into a strange dream. Her mind was sluggish, slow to catch up with the rest of her body as she forced herself up and rested her forehead against her palms.

It was almost too easy to get lost in her wondering – what if it had all been a long, twisted nightmare? Lotor driven mad with quintessence, the Castle of Lions lost, the Coalition splintered, Earth living under the constant threat of Haggar’s return. What if she was just waking up now from it all, and she could slip out of her chambers to the hangar and find Lotor waiting for her there?

But a single glance down at her wrist told her otherwise. This was reality, but it was not her reality. Her own was waiting for her, and she had to find her way back.

With Lotor in tow. It was the only way.

She pushed herself up on stiff knees and hauled herself to the door. Ignoring the call of the warm sheets behind her and reached out her hand-

The door slid open, and she was face to face with him.

“Princess,” Lotor said, blinking. He looked bemused, brow pinching. “You’re awake…”

He wore that concern so openly on his face. So honestly. Was he so different in this reality, or had she just missed it before? “I…” Her voice was stuck in her throat, stubbornly refusing to form more than a word at a time. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing she could get out. “The travel between realities…it must have strained my body more than I realized.”

She was sorry for so much more than a simple fainting spell. For so many things that it hurt to try and list them all.

“I’m sure,” Lotor sighed. “The rift is not a forgiving force. It can sap a person of their strength as easily as it can bolster it.”

The thought made Allura’s stomach knot up.

Her voice came out so small she could barely believe it belonged to her when she finally managed to speak again: “I don’t understand…there’s something about you…this _version_ of you…” She let her eyes track down across his face, over the paladin armor spanning his chest and arms. “When you saw me, you knew immediately who I was. Where I was from. How…”

He smiled, almost enigmatically. “It’s strange, I don’t have a strong grasp on it either.” He took a slow and careful breath. “In your universe…did you find Oriande?”

Allura’s heart pounded against her ribs. “We did. The both of us…”

“I failed the trial presented to me,” he told her, quietly. Almost reverently. “I left emptyhanded. At least, I thought I did at first. But after we left that place, I felt…a connection. Unlike anything I’d felt before. A new sense that allowed me to tune in on the life force of other beings…”

“You can…sense quintessence?” Allura breathed. “Something like that…it takes great alchemic skill.”

“I’m well aware. In all my studies I never for a moment thought it was an ability I could ever hope to acquire. And I’ve far from mastered it, but still – the moment I saw you, Allura, it was as if I could see just how far you had traveled to come here.”

At some point, his hands had wrapped around hers. She glanced down at them, her heart fluttering at the warmth of them. The softness of his fingers beneath those gloves.

It was too much – too _familiar._ Her eyes overflowed, wetness streaking down her cheeks before she could hope to stop it. Her fingers curled against his palms. “You aren’t mine,” she find herself saying, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars. “I know you aren’t – but-“

She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close. For a moment – a blissful, glorious moment – she forgot her mission, forgot all of the looming dangers, forgot all she’d already lost, and pressed her lips against his.

Lotor pulled in a sharp breath, freezing where he stood. But his hands rested against her hips, grounding her, soothing her, if only for a few blissful ticks. When she pulled away again, letting her hands drape loosely over his shoulders, there was a flush spreading across the bridge of his nose. “I…I may never get the chance to say this,” she whispered. “To _truly_ say it. In my own universe. But I would never forgive myself if I never said it at all.”

She stared up at him, at those eyes as they shone so brightly in the dim light. “Princess…”

“I love you.” It _ached_ in her chest as she said it, but it felt so good at the same time. Euphoric. “I love you. And I don’t know if I’ve said that to you in this universe, but if I haven’t, I pray I get up the courage to do so.” She let her lip catch between her teeth, forcing herself to pull away and feeling his fingers drag gently across her arms as she stepped back.

“Allura,” he said. Confused. Longing. She kept her eyes shut, reaching for her wrist until her fingertips met the familiar Altean metalwork.

“I love you,” she said again, as naturally as breathing. “I’ll find you – I promise.”

_Ancients, don’t make me a liar._

She was pulled backward into the whirling abyss before she could change her mind.

* * *

Something was different.

Pink. Light. Swirling around her and caressing her skin like warm water. Like electricity clinging to her fingers as she curled them against cool metal. She knew this feeling. A part of her had craved it since the very first time they had first breached the boundary between universes.

The rift.

She drew in a breath and the cool, dry scent of recycled oxygen hit her nose. The solid surface under her palms, the gentle glow of reserve power lights, the pulse of quintessence in her veins.

Sincline.

She had made it.

She pushed herself up on her feet faster than she should have, and she wobbled before catching the wall for support. The cockpit was small, but just ahead of her she could see it – a shape hunched at the controls. She forgot how to breathe.

Shaking, she took a step forward – and then another. And another. Inching closer, hands quivering as she reached out. “Lotor,” she sighed, eyes burning with residual tears. “Lotor, can you hear me? I found you…I came to take you out of here. To take you back with me.”

There was no response. Her fingers brushed the back of the chair.

“Lotor, can you-“

His head tipped backwards, and for the first time the light illuminated the inside of his visor. And her heart sank to her toes. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. The face staring back at her wasn’t the one she’d known. There was no warmth in his eyes – there were no eyes to speak of. There was only a sunken, twisted visage. Empty. Decayed.

Dead.

Allura fell to her knees and let out a sob that wracked her entire body down to her bones.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this eases the pain after that season.
> 
> Are you ready?
> 
> Here we go. 
> 
> <3

This was wrong.

It was all _wrong._ This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. This wasn’t where her journey was meant to bring her – collapsed down against the cold metal edge of the jump seat, struggling to breathe. With every jump, every step, she’d come closer and closer. It had stoked that flicker of hope in her into a full hearty flame, only to snuff it out.

Only to leave her here. Within reaching distance of Lotor’s corpse.

A corpse…it was such a cold word. Almost clinical in its detachment from emotion. Allura wished she could freeze the anguish in her chest, stop it from roiling and burning every inch of her. She wished she could make herself numb to it. Numb to everything. Frozen and unfeeling. It would have been better than _this._

Her fingers curled against the unyielding metal beneath her legs, grasping for purchase that wasn’t there as her stomach twisted itself in knots. “No…” she breathed. “No…no, no, _no-!_ ”

Allura’s fist left a deep indentation in the darkened console. She grimaced in pain as she buried her face in her palms.

“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t look at him. It hurt too much to look at those dull, sunken eyes and remember how bright and warm they used to be. “I’m so sorry…I’m sorry I left you here…I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you.”

The silence that followed was stifling. Suffocating. She could almost _hear_ his voice, answering on the edge of a muted laugh: _Tears don’t suit you, my dear._

She pulled in shuddering breath that shook her entire body. Finally, she forced herself to look up, to meet his empty gaze even though it made her stomach turn. It felt like pulling herself through a fog as she stepped toward him, reaching for him, letting her fingers brush against his hair.

How long had he spent here, alone and frightened, writhing as the quintessence devoured him inside and out? Had he screamed? Wept? Clawed at the metal under his hands? When had he succumbed, she wondered? How long had he fought – or had he let it take him willingly?

She bowed her head, metal cold and hard under her knees as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. “You never deserved this…” she said, barely a whisper. “Never…nobody deserves this…I’m so sorry, Lotor – I…I’m so…”

It dissolved into a sob, the world blurring with the tears in her eyes. How long she sat there, clinging to him, she didn’t know. Time seemed to pass slowly, plodding along and slowing even more with every unsteady breath of recycled air she pulled into her lungs. She knew she had to stand, had to try and figure out how she was going to get back home.

How could she return without him? How could she leave him here a second time? How could she face the paladins, Coran, the Garrison, without the one person who could truly help them defend the last vestige of peace they’d manage to find?

Her fingers curled against her wrist, palm pressing against the device there. “Take me away,” she pleaded. “Take me out of here. Take me away…”

It enveloped her, exploding white on the other side of her closed eyelids and pulling in the center of her chest hard enough to knock the wind out of her again. It was a familiar feeling by now, but it left her aching and breathless, her eyes burning with tears and exhaustion.

She felt her hand ripped away from his armor, grasping at air, and she slammed down onto her knees again.

Another jump. The last jump. It didn’t matter where she ended up. Her mission was over.

She opened her eyes and saw the rift.

Her brow pinched in confusion as her vision cleared. The same rift. The same ship. The same unyielding metal underneath her palms and stale air filling her nostrils and mouth. But she had jumped. She had felt it the same as all the times before it, and one glance down at her wrist confirmed it.

She had jumped. But she was still here. Still here with him…

The figure at the console shifted. Groaned. Drew a strained breath.

_Ancients preserve her-_

“Allura…”

Lotor’s voice was ragged, his eyes sunken and dull, his face pale and gaunt. But he was looking at her, albeit with an unfocused gaze. He was breathing. _Alive._

“By fury,” he groaned. “Will it never cease…”

“Lotor-“

“They speak now.” He turned away from her, and it seemed to take every ounce of strength he had. “Why must you torment me still…” She watched as he curled into an impossibly tight ball, making himself look smaller than she had ever seen him. “Leave me…let me die…is that too much to ask…”

She couldn’t stand it, the way his voice broke over those words. She pitched forward, her hands finding his, thumb tracing over the bones that stood out under his skin. “Lotor, it’s me…”

Another jump. Another reality within the rift itself. One where she had a second chance. She’d never thought it possible – but she didn’t care about the odds. All she focused on was the feeling of his skin beneath her own.

He looked at her – looked _past_ her – and his lips curled back over his teeth in a bitter snarl. “Take your hands off me.”

“I’m real,” she insisted. “I’m here – I’m here to take you home.”

“I have no home-“

“Nether do I,” she fired back, without hesitating. Thinking of Altea. Of her father and mother. Of the grass beneath her feet. “But there’s a place for you on Earth. There’s a place for both of us. To rebuild the alliance.”

“The alliance is _dead,_ ” Lotor hissed.

“It isn’t.” She pulled his hand closer, toward her chest, all too aware of the length of his claws so close to her throat. “I’m sorry, Lotor. I’m so sorry…I should have listened. About the colony, about those pods-“

“Leave me!”

“ _No._ ”

He slumped against her, too exhausted to do anything else. “Let me die…please…just let me…”

Her hand pressed against his temple, his hair hanging listlessly over her fingers. “I’ll do no such thing,” she breathed. “I’ve come much too far to simply give up on you now…”

That empty, shriveled face was still fresh in her mind – twisted in agony and despair. She’d been too late in at least one reality. Possibly several more. But not in this one.

“Please,” he said again, so softly she could barely hear him, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his.

“I made the mistake of leaving you once. Not again.”

When his eyes opened once more, there was a clarity to them that had been lacking before. Something shifting behind his irises that let him focus on her at last. “Allura…you…are you really…” He reached for her, his hand listless and heavy. He pressed it against her cheek. “It’s not possible…there’s no way you could have-“

“I did,” she insisted. “And I can take you back with me.” His eyes tracked down her arm as she lifted it into their shared fields of view. A single jump remaining. Just enough power to take them home. She held him tight, pressing her hand against it-

The air was still around them. Insufferably so. She opened her eyes again and stared down at the device around her wrist. Something was wrong. Why weren’t they-

It came together in her mind all in one horrifying moment, and it felt like ice was flowing through her veins. There was enough power for the jump back yes. Enough power for one more jump.

For one person.

“No…I’ve come too far for this – let me-“

She jammed her palm against the device again. Again. _Again._ But the result was the same every time. The stillness. The silence.

“Allura…”

“No-“ This couldn’t end here. Not now. Not when she’d been given a second chance.

“ _Allura._ ”

“No!” She looked up at him, frantic. “No, it will work! It has to work! There’s enough power for one jump. There must be a way for it to get both of us there-“

His fingers curled against her hand, his eyes glazing over with tired resignation. “You were never meant to come back here,” he sighed. “And I was never meant to leave.”

“I don’t give a damn what was _meant_ to happen!” Allura snapped, tears stinging her eyes. Ancients, she was so tired of the feeling of them streaking down her cheeks. Her skin was raw with it. “I came too far to get here! I need you too badly to leave you again!”

She couldn’t stand the thought of having the memory of Lotor’s lifeless face burned into her mind for the rest of her days.

“No, there’s a way. I know there’s a way. Look where we are, Lotor – surrounded by quintessence. Endless quantities of it.” Her brow pinching, she laid her hand overtop of the device and closed her eyes. Concentrating. Feeling the energy pulsing through her. “I’ve channeled it before…”

She could do it now. Surely she could. She’d held Shiro’s spirit in her very soul and breathed him into a new body. She could recharge a simple battery now. Even if it meant giving over some of her own life force to do it.

Sure, it might shave a deca-phoeb or two off of her lifespan, but it was a small price to pay.

She let out a grunt as she felt it flow through her arm, like fire across her skin. It burned, making her breath hitch and her jaw clench, but she could feel it working – could feel the quintessence flowing through her body.

She could handle this. Pain was nothing. Pain was temporary. Even if it bored its way all the way down through the flesh of her hand and made her feel like all of her bones were splintering.

“I can do it,” she gasped. “I…I can-“

A hand laid overtop of hers, and she managed to open her eyes just in time to see Lotor’s claws curling against her knuckles. His eyes were closed, brow pinched and sweat beading on his brow. But his hand was warm and firm against hers. Warm enough for her to feel even amidst the burning heat.

Grounding her. Like it always had.

“I won’t leave you,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not again. Not _ever again-_ “

The pain was the last thing on her mind as light enveloped the both – even as it seared down to the tips of her fingers she held fast to Lotor’s frame. Gripping him so tightly that not even the jolt through the rift could part them.

Light and heat whipped past them like a gale, biting at her skin and pulling the air from her lungs. But she held on. She held him close until the moment they slammed down against cold ground-

“What the _hell-_ “

She barely managed to open her eyes and found Keith, standing right there in the middle of the Garrison conference room. Mouth agape, eyes wide, stumbling backwards from where the conference table had splintered underneath them.

Well…that was one way to make an entrance.

Allura let out a breath, looking down at Lotor and catching a glimpse of yellow gleaming under his lashes before she felt her consciousness fading. “Keith,” she forced out, tunnel vision narrowing everything down to a bright point surrounded by black. “Keith…he…help…”

She pitched forward, barely away of a pair of hands holding her up before everything bled into blackness.

* * *

The room was dim when she opened her eyes. A small blessing, considering the pounding behind her temples. Her body felt heavy – it ached with every breath even with the painkillers coursing through her, making her wish she could drift off back to sleep.

A gentle humming sound caught her ears outside the window. Cicadas.

She let out a sigh, and someone shifted beside her. “Allura-“

Turning her head was no easy feat, but the moment she locked eyes with Coran she barely had time to breathe before he threw his arms around her.

“You’re _awake!_ Oh thank the ancients!”

“C…Coran…” Her voice was rough, her throat dry. Swallowing did nothing to help. But Coran was quick to grab the cup by her bed and hold it to her lips. The cool kiss of the water felt like heaven. She groaned as she swallowed it and tried to push herself up.

“Easy – easy now,” Coran chided, his hand resting against her shoulder to push her back down against the pillows. It didn’t take much effort on his part. “You’ve been through quite a bit.”

She whimpered against his hand as he brushed her hair from her face. “How long have I been asleep?”

“You’ve been in and out for a quintant or so,” he sighed. “Suppose you don’t remember-“ Her eyes tracked downward as he spoke, down her arm where it rested on the blankets.

Ending in a bandaged stump just above the wrist.

Coran’s hand squeezed her shoulder, soothingly. “Catastrophic overload, Slav said.” She glanced up at him, finding his deep lines beneath his eyes. They made him look at least a hundred deca-phoebs older. Had he slept at all, she wondered? “Did quite the number on your hand. Afraid there wasn’t anything to be done for it.”

Everything had a price, she thought to herself. She could only hope it was worth it.

“But not to worry – Pidge and Slav and the Olkari are all working hard on a prosthetic that’ll make you forget you’d ever lost a single finger!”

“Lotor…”

Coran went quiet.

“Coran…is he…”

_Stars, please let all of this be worth it._

He let out a long breath, expression solemn. “He’s alive,” he said. “Out of it, but stable. He hasn’t spoken to anyone.”

She pushed herself up again, ignoring the way her head swam and Coran’s hands against her arms as he protested. “I need to see him-“

“Whoa – I told you to take it easy, didn’t I?”

“Coran, _please._ ” She hadn’t expected the words to come out so desperate. _Pleading._ She stared at him, reaching for his arm with her remaining hand and gripping it tightly. “Please…I need to see for myself. I need to see him alive.”

Those sunken eyes. That twisted face. The claw marks on his armor. She couldn’t get it out of her head.

“I need to see him, Coran.” A sob caught in her throat. “Please…please, I…”

“Alright,” he said softly. His arms were around her again, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Alright. I’ll take you to him.” When he pulled away, his eyes were shining. “But I’m getting you a wheelchair, missy.”

They made their way down the hall in silence, Allura’s hear pounding in her chest as she cradled her injured arm against her stomach. The hallway seemed to stretch on into infinity, and it was agonizing, wondering what she would see when they reached the end.

What he would say to her. If he could say anything at all. If the jump had taken so much out of her, would there even be anything left of him?

For a moment, Coran stopped, just as they passed the large glass window that stretched from floor to ceiling. The stars covered the vast blackness of the horizon, as far as she could see out across the rocky desert.

“Allura,” Coran said, his voice strained. He stood stone-still behind her, out of her line of sight. “You know…you weren’t gone for more than a few vargas. Slav said there was no way to tell just how long it would be for us. Time is a tricky thing, you know.”

It was. Far beyond her understanding. Perhaps beyond any of theirs.

“I always knew you’d be coming back, of course. I had faith in you, Allura, just as I always had faith in your father.” His breath stuttered. “But even still…those few vargas…stars, they felt like _centuries_ to me.”  

Even straining her neck, she couldn’t see him. But his hands rested on her shoulders, squeezing tightly. Allura’s eyes stung as she looked out at the stars, the distant sound of cicadas still reaching her ears. The silence dragged on for a tick or two more before she finally said, so softly she could barely hear her own words: “I saw some horrible things, Coran.” Her voice shook. “Some things that I’d care to forget. But there were some things too that I…that I found so beautiful that I almost didn’t want to leave them…”

If she strained her mind, she could almost imagine that the rolling dunes of the desert under the night sky were the green fields of Altea. She could almost picture the juniberries in bloom in the sand.

She reached up, her fingers brushing Coran’s against her shoulder, and he took her hand and folded it in his own. He sniffled. “Well I’m very glad you did.”

Yes, she thought as he wheeled her down the hall, so was she.

There was a guard posted outside the last room on the left, and he straightened up when he noticed them approach. “P-princess Allura-“

“Let us in, please,” she said softly. Stars, did she truly sound that _tired?_

“Ah…I’m sorry…I’m afraid I can’t.”

Coran huffed behind her. “And why not?”

“Orders, sir. From the top command of the Garrison. Nobody is allowed in except for medical personnel.”

“Now see here-“

But Allura held up a hand, and Coran went silent. She took a breath, pressed her palm against the armrests and pushed herself up to her feet. She expected Coran to warn her against it, to insist that she sit back down, and for how much her legs protested, she would have been inclined to agree. But she managed to stand on her own, and she held the guard’s eye.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea,” she said. “And I assure you my title carries more weight than anybody in your chain of command. I’m giving you an order. Let me through that door.”

She only had to wait a tick or two before the door opened for her. The guard stepped aside without another word. And only then did she let herself collapse back into the wheelchair with a grimace, her eyes fixed on the bed inside as Coran shot a quick “Thank you” to the guard before pushing her through.

Lotor’s face was almost serene in sleep, softening the lines underneath his eyes and the hallow shadows in his cheeks. His slow, deep breaths and the steady beeping of the vitals monitor were all that assured her he was alive.

“He’s been in and out of consciousness,” Coran said quietly. “Only time will tell what kind of lasting damage there might be, but for the time being…it seems you got to him just in time.”

Allura reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his where they rested atop the blanket. One of his hands was bandaged, though unlike hers, still intact. The one he’d laid overtop of hers while she’d channeled the quintessence through her own. “We were wrong, Coran,” she whispered. “We were wrong about him. About the colony. About everything.” She glanced back to look at him, finding his eyes widening with every word. “Call a meeting. With the paladins, the Garrison, the Blade – _everyone._ I need to debrief with them as soon as possible.”

“Of course, but – but you really should be resting-“

“Then they can come to my bedside,” she insisted. “But it has to be tonight. Wake them all if you have to.”

He stared at her for a moment more before he nodded. “Yes…right away. I’ll ah…I’ll give you a bit of time…” He stepped toward the door. “You’re sure you alright?”

“I can make it back to my room well enough,” she told him with a smile, and she glanced at the guard still posted by the door. “And if I can’t, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of help.”

“I’m sure.” He was back to twisting his mustache again, “I’ll gather everyone as quick as I can – don’t you worry. Just…don’t strain yourself, alright?”

She gave him a nod, and as the door slid closed behind him, she turned back toward Lotor and-

His eyes were trained directly on her.

It knocked her breath out of her, her hand tightening around his as she leaned closer. “Lotor – you’re awake-“

“Where…” The rest of the question trailed off into a grimace and a moan. His eyes squeezed shut.

“Earth,” she told him. “It’s Earth.”

“You…brought me here…” It was a statement, not a question. But he still didn’t quite sound like he believed it. She wasn’t sure she could either. “You pulled me out of the rift…” He gazed up at her. “Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave you there to…to die…” She pulled his hand closer to her chest, her thumb rubbing over the bandages. “Not after what happened. After the things I said to you…” She stared down at those bandages where they frayed and scratched against the pad of her thumb. “I never should have…Lotor, you were never the same as Zarkon. I know about the colony, the pods, _all of it._ You…you were just trying to help…and I…I…”

Her voice broke as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the back of his bandaged hand. Her tears soaked into the gauze as she pulled in a shaking breath. But then a moment later she felt something – a warm pressure against the side of her head.

Lotor’s fingers curled against her hair. “You saved me,” he rasped. “After all I did…plenty of people have left before, Allura, but nobody…nobody has ever come back for me.”

She looked at him, finding his eyes wide and curious. Confused. As if the thought had never occurred to him that anybody could care enough to search for him.

“You should rest,” she said, letting her eyes slip closed and leaning her cheek against his hand. “We both should rest. There’s much to do. Much to talk about. But it can wait a tick or two.”

* * *

Earth was a strange place. Not the strangest he’d ever seen, nor the worst by any stretch. In fact, Lotor thought as he breathed in the warm desert air and stretched his legs, it may have been one of the more beautiful places he’d ever set foot on.

It was a relief to be out of bed. Yet it didn’t quite feel real to him. Time in the rift had melted together, blurred and distorted his sense of it until he’d had no idea how long he’d been floating there. But it had felt like a lot of time. Enough for him to replay the events of before over and over in his quintessence-addled mind. And the more he had remembered them, the more he’d resigned himself to his own death.

And then she’d appeared. Just like so many of the hallucinations that had plagued him, out of the blue. With no warning to speak of. And yet unlike the hallucinations she had held him, pulled him out.

Perhaps this was still a dream, or the product of his mind finally breaking down into full insanity. Even if it was, maybe he could be content with that.

“It finally stopped raining.” He turned and looked at her, finding Allura smiling at him from the doorway. She stepped up to the railing beside him, looking out over the golden horizon at the sun just beginning to rise over the sand behind the clouds. She rolled and stretched her prosthetic wrist – it was taking some getting used to, she’d told him.

She closed her eyes and pulled in a long breath. “Do you smell that?”

He did – a rich, earthy scent that he found oddly calming. It had come as the rain had left.

“Pidge calls it petrichor,” Allura said. “I think it’s a strange-sounding word, but for something so lovely. The smell of earth after it rains.” She turned to him as she opened her eyes again. “How are you feeling?”

He canted his head up toward the clouds, watching as they swirled and dissipated overhead. “Weaker than I’d like,” he said, honestly. “But still…I find it hard to think of any complaints.”

There was still much work to be done, and he wasn’t sure the humans would trust him enough to do it. He wasn’t sure _any_ of them would, even if they did know the truth.

The truth of his failure. Of his shortcomings as a guardian of the Altean people. “When the Altean from that mech wakes up,” Allura said, “We’ll have more information to go on. Until then…I suppose we’ll just have to do what we can to heal.”

“Lick our wounds,” he said with a small smile. One she mirrored. His own faded quickly. “Allura, I…that fight…our battle in the rift…it all feels like a dream. A horrible dream. Like I was watching myself go mad and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.”

“The quintessence-“

“Quintessence is only so powerful, Allura.” Fear cinched in his chest, tightening until he could barely draw breath. “It cannot act on what isn’t there. It doesn’t corrupt – it reveals a person’s true nature. In that moment, I wanted to destroy you…Voltron…the Galra…everyone who I thought had ever wronged me.” He leaned against the railing, claws digging against the metal as he stared out at the setting sun.

How could she trust him? How could he trust himself?

“Perhaps you were right,” he forced out, lips curling with disgust. “Perhaps I am…more like my father than I ever-“

“Don’t you dare.” Allura’s hand pressed against his, pushing it down against the railing with such force he couldn’t move it if he wanted to. She stared at him so intently, her eyes blazing with fire. “Don’t you dare _ever_ say that. You’re nothing like Zarkon. Perhaps the quintessence did reveal something in you…of course it did. After all you endured…centuries of neglect – of _torture_ at the hands of people who were meant to give you love…”

Tears streaked down her face, but if they were from anger or sadness or something else he couldn’t name, he didn’t know.

“After all that,” she breathed, “of course the quintessence brought out darkness in you. But it brought out so much more.” She brought his hand to her chest, staring down at it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. “I remember the first time we crossed that barrier. The way you kissed me…touched me…despite all of the pain and darkness, there was still so much love in you.”

When she looked up at him again, her face was blurred, and it took him a few ticks to realize it was from the tears stinging his own eyes. With his free hand, he reached up to wipe them away, but more came in their place before he could stop them.

What had he done to deserve the way her hands curled against his own? How in his long life had he ever managed to earn her trust? Even after everything that had happened…

She reached up, pressing her palms against his temples and tilting his head down until she could rest her forehead against his, and he let his eyes slip closed. “Thank you,” he said. “For finding me. For everything.”

“It was what you deserved,” she told him, with such confidence that he could almost believe it.

 _Ancients above,_ he prayed, _let me prove her right._

And then she pressed her lips against his, and he couldn’t help but think that Earth could feel like a very welcoming home indeed.


End file.
